


One Minute to Midnight

by QuickedWeen



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Actor Harry, Again, Aging, Angst, Boston, Curses, Donor Events, Eventual Smut, Finance Guy Louis, Holidays, M/M, New Year's Eve, Older Louis, Seeking Arrangement, Sugar Baby Harry, Sugar Daddy Louis, but regional theater, holiday parties, what about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 06:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: Louis Tomlinson is at the height of his game in Boston's financial scene. He's got the instinct, and he's got the guts to take calculated risks that make everyone around him a lot of money. Everything is going well until the day after he gets promoted when he wakes up forty years older than his actual age.Two years later he's adapted to his new life as a retiree, but he's lonely and desperate for company closer to his real age during the rigorous holiday party season. He gets some questionable advice from Niall and turns to the Seeking Arrangement app where he finds Harry Styles, a local actor he's been a fan of since they had an undergraduate class together. But what happens when a few dates here and there isn't enough?





	One Minute to Midnight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dimpled_halo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimpled_halo/gifts).



> This is for my darling Jacky!
> 
> Thanks again to Sus, Emmi, Lynda, Lissie, and Michelle!!!! I couldn't have done this without you.
> 
> For anyone worried, I tried very hard to make sure there wasn't a huge amount of power imbalance between them when there is an age difference between them. If you have any other concerns please let me know!
> 
> Title and excerpt from "Let's Start the New Year Right" by Bing Crosby.

_One minute to midnight_  
_One minute to go_  
_One minute to say goodbye_  
_Before we say hello_

 

**PROLOGUE**

May 2015

English 102

 

Louis couldn’t believe he was actually required to be sitting in this classroom right now. English. Again. It was the second semester of his freshman year of college and he was rotting away in this English class after he had just taken a foundational English class the semester before. 101. Surely a second one was just for the sake of torture at this point.

He stared out the window as the clouds filled in over Boston Common and little drops of rain began to gather on the window next to him. The rain was supposed to turn to snow at some point during the night because it was January in Boston, and God forbid they went without snow for more than a week.

The problem was, as much as he hated the weather, he loved New England. He had only been there for a little more than a semester—coming in with the waves of tens of thousands of new freshman on September first—but already he could see himself staying there permanently.

His family was back down in Virginia, and he never really imagined himself being away from them for that long, but his mother had also encouraged him to spread his wings and find his own place in the world. Living somewhere else for college was a privilege, and she wanted Louis to take full advantage of it.

When he received an almost full ride to Stuart University in the heart of downtown Boston, it was a no-brainer.

He did not take into account English 102, though. Louis looked around for a minute at the other bleary faces of his fellow freshman and the state they were all in at nine in the morning. It wasn’t good.

Louis sighed and looked back at the professor, trying to listen, hoping to catch at least one word of his monotone drivel that might help him get back into the swing of the lecture. One came up eventually, but Louis didn’t last very long before he was zoning out again.

The other issue with 102 that he had discovered in the two classes they had attended so far, was a boy. Louis called him ‘Curly’ in his head because he didn’t know the boy’s name and hadn’t been paying attention the first day when the professor had called the roll. He was just so beautiful, was the thing. That was Louis’ only excuse for the way he watched his chestnut curls as they took on a life of their own and molded to the shape of his ear, or poked out in every direction when the boy ran his fingers through his hair to get it out of his face.

Louis had seen him around campus a few times, just a glimpse here or there. Enough to see him and think to himself “Wow, is that guy attractive,” and then go on with his day. Now, in English 102, Louis had free rein to admire him from afar. He hadn’t quite plucked up the courage to start a conversation yet, but all he needed to do was make an opportunity.

Instead of Chaucer, Louis lost himself in thinking about what it would be like to have a boyfriend. He wasn’t necessarily out in high school. His family knew, his close friends knew, but he hadn’t felt the need for a parade. Waiting until he moved away to Boston for college seemed like a good dividing point in his life.

He had girlfriends when he was in high school, so he knew what it was like to be in a relationship. Knew he liked being with someone else, having someone to dote on endlessly—that was his ‘love language’ according to his mother. But he had never had the chance to have a real honest to god relationship with a boyfriend.

Louis was knocked out of his reverie by someone accidentally bumping into his chair in their escape from the classroom. The professor had dismissed them and Louis missed it. No matter, he thought as he picked up his bag. He had one of his major classes next, and he was much more excited about that one than any silly foundational class.

The problem with going to Stuart for an undergraduate in Business was that it was one of the most rigorous programs in the country. Louis always knew he wanted to study business, that was what his scholarship was for, and every time he sat down in one of his major classes he could feel the inherent rightness wash over him. But every time he did, he was intimidated by how much work it would require to graduate on time.

He had to take at least seventeen credits every semester, and do two different internships and a senior thesis before he could graduate. If he didn’t graduate on time, he would have to pay for any remaining credits himself, and his family just couldn’t afford that. His mum had six other children to feed and put through whatever schooling they wanted. It would be massively unfair of him to be the first and the most expensive one.

If he did graduate, though, the world was his oyster. His professors were connected all over town and knew just who to talk to for placing their students that left the program with a high GPA and good prospects.

That was his goal, he thought later on the T ride home. Maybe a placement, maybe an MBA, maybe even an MBA at Harvard Business School.

...Maybe that meant he should concentrate on his English 102 lecture instead of cute boys with curly hair.

 

**SIX YEARS LATER**

November 2021

Somewhere in the distance, Louis could hear the Park Street church chime six o’clock and he checked his watch to make sure it was actually only six o’clock and not any later, like seven. He needed to get out of there, and he was known to push it very close to the time he was supposed to leave.

Niall was going to meet him at Red Lantern for some sushi before the show, and Louis was supposed to get there for the reservations at half past. Millennium Tower—where Fidelity Investments had taken over the first fifteen floors two years before—was a twenty-minute walk away from the restaurant, and it was rush hour so it was a toss-up as to whether or not a car would be faster.

The longer he sat there, the more time he was losing, and he still hadn’t sent the next set of figures to his boss.

Louis pulled out his phone and there was a text from Niall waiting for him.

 **Niall** : Don’t forget.

Louis scoffed and rolled his eyes before pocketing the phone again and hitting send. His boss knew he would be out that night, Louis warned him every time—the three or four times a year it happened—that he would be unavailable. That didn’t mean the man wouldn’t panic and try to call him halfway through the night.

He put his suit jacket on and buttoned it, straightening his tie as he went. He was glad he had it tonight because it would cover up the wrinkles in his shirt from sitting at his computer for ten hours that day. After that, he added his long black overcoat and blue silk scarf his mother had given him for his birthday and Christmas the year before.

“Goodnight, Adam,” he called over the sleek, magnetic cubicle wall. They could dress it up all they wanted, make it black and chrome instead of the classic drab gray, but it was still a cubicle.

“Night, Louis. You lucky bastard,” his friend called out. Louis chuckled at that. Adam considered him lucky because he was leaving early, escaping a good two hours before they normally left for the night. But Adam also thought Louis was leaving early for a date. If he knew what Louis was actually leaving for, he wouldn’t think he was so lucky. More likely, he would think it was a bit pathetic.

6:08. Shit.

“Leaving early, Tomlinson?” A body appeared to block Louis’ path, and he just barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes.

“No, Chad. Leaving at a normal time for normal people,” he bit out as he pushed past Chad’s six foot frame toward the elevator bank.

“Normal people don’t work as hard!” Chad called out his stellar comeback as Louis was approaching the doors and pushing the button to go down to the ground floor.

6:13. He was definitely going to be late for dinner. He pulled out his phone to text Niall.

 **Louis** : I didn’t forget, I’m leaving now.

 **Niall** : Right, sure. Leaving now, I’m gathering my things? Or leaving now elevator?

 **Louis** : Elevator

 **Niall** : Okay I won’t wait to sit down then.

Louis pocketed his phone and eyed the screens on the inside walls of the elevator. Look at that, it was supposed to snow.

Before Thanksgiving was early for the first snow in Boston. It hadn’t done that in years.

Fuck. Thanksgiving. He should call his mom.

The doors pinged and Louis stepped into the sleek lobby with marble floors and minimalistic luxury. He needed to make it to the restaurant first, then maybe he could call him mom between dinner and the show.

Louis wrapped his scarf tighter around his face and immediately regretted not calling a car. It was fucking cold outside.

By the time he reached the large wooden door of Red Lantern, his eyes were watering, and he was sure his cheeks were chapped from the wind. Boston was beginning to put up twinkle lights in the trees for the holiday season, so it was a fairly pleasant walk through the Financial District.

6:34. He was only a few minutes late.

When he approached the hostess stand, he saw Niall out of the corner of his eye, sitting at a table, playing on his phone. He apologized to the woman waiting to seat him and turned to weave his way through the tables.

“Hey, man,” Louis gripped Niall’s shoulder as he came around and hung his coat up on the hook closest to the table.

“Five minutes late, that’s a record for you,” Niall cheered.

“I tried,” he said a touch too defensively as he sat down and picked up the cocktail menu. Louis liked this restaurant with its dark furnishings and red vinyl giving it a sort of modern tiki bar feel. Their food was good and their drinks were excellent, so it was never a chore to have dinner there before a show.

Niall waved him off good naturedly and let him start to peruse the drink menu. They were quiet for a few minutes while Louis made his selection before he snapped the menu shut.

The waiter came by, took his order, and in no time at all Louis had a cocktail in his hand. He suspected Niall waited for precisely that moment before he struck.

“So what is Mr. Harry Styles in tonight?” Niall asked loudly enough that Louis was sure they could hear him around the corner and down the block at the theater.

Louis choked on his cocktail, putting it down carefully before picking up a napkin to wipe where he had dripped.

“Niall!” he hissed.

“What? It’s not a secret that’s why we go to these shows, is it?”

Louis balked at that. It wasn’t really a secret, he just didn’t think Niall had caught on was all. “I mean, no.”

“We’ve been going to shows once every couple of months for like four, five years now. You didn’t think I would catch on? How many is that?” Niall started trying to count on his fingers.

“Sometimes I go to ones he’s not in,” Louis said, again wincing at how defensive he sounded to himself.

“Right… but that was only that one year where it was cheaper to get a season subscription.” When Louis once again looked shocked, Niall sighed. “I’m more than just a pretty face, Lou. I pay attention to things.”

“Well, can you un-pay-attention to things?” he asked, definitely without pouting.

“Not if you’re going to use me to fuel this obsession and never actually do anything about it,” Niall said. “Does the guy even know your name?”

Louis blushed. “I haven’t got time for a relationship, Niall, you know that.”

Niall scrutinized him for a few moments before Louis was saved by the bell as the waiter came to take their order.

As soon as the man walked away again, Louis cut off whatever Niall was about to say. “Honestly, I never meant to let it get this far. I used to go in undergrad because I thought he was cute. Then, I just kind of followed what he was going to be in around town. Next thing I knew, it was five years later. I swear, it was never meant to be more than that.”

Niall swirled the beer around in his glass for a second before taking a sip.

“I get that, Lou. I do. I just worry about you.”

Louis smiled wanly, but Niall did eventually let him drop the subject. They ate their sushi in peace, and Louis picked up the tab before they headed out once more into the chilly November night.

They made it to theater just in time to once again put up their coats and settle in their seats with their programs. This company was on the smaller end with a stage where some of the seats were on either side of the state that Louis learned meant it was in the round.

He knew nothing about theater when he convinced his freshman year roommate turned sophomore year roommate Niall to go to his first show with him. All he knew was that he had seen the cute boy from his English 102 class and overheard him talking about being in one of the school shows. Louis couldn’t resist going to the show the following weekend. He had the program to thank for displaying the guy’s headshot and telling Louis his name was Harry Styles.

That first night, Louis heard his slow, semi monotone way of talking and was hooked. As he ended up in more amateur productions around town, Louis had done what he could to go to the shows while he finished undergrad and then graduate school.

Now that he was in a high powered job where he had to do the majority of the grunt work and was crushing himself under the weight of his own expectations and standards, a nice night out at the theater every once in a while kept his sanity intact. Harry was a side benefit.

Or was Harry the main benefit and relaxation the side benefit? Louis wasn’t really sure.

Every time he thought he might be a stalker, he would stop and think stalkers probably weren’t that self-aware. Also, it was no different than Niall wanting to go see every single film with The Rock in it.

He had gone straight from undergrad to his MBA at Harvard Business School, which was a two-year program, and he had done some field work at Fidelity, which meant he was offered a job there before he even graduated. So he had been with the company for about eight months in total with no real break in between.

There was no summer vacation for a hedge fund manager, which was exactly what Louis wanted to be. Right now, he was only a cog in someone else’s fund wheel, but there were rumors stirring that the higher-ups were looking for someone to take over their own account, which would be akin to taking over their own fund. Louis was chomping at the bit to do it, but there was no telling who they would tap for the promotion.

By the time they sat down in their seats off to the side, and Louis was reaching to turn his phone to airplane mode, he realized he hadn’t stopped to call his mom about the holidays. There was always tomorrow, he supposed.

The house lights went down, and the stage lights went up on some sort of weird cabin setting, while Louis settled in to wait for Harry to come on stage.

 

Thanksgiving surprised Louis. It shouldn’t have, given that he knew it was coming, but it did. There wasn’t any special reason he should have gone home, other than it was a holiday and his mom and sisters always sounded slightly disappointed whenever he couldn’t be there. But he hadn’t booked a flight, and it would take too long to drive, so he was shit out of luck.

It ended up being a good thing, though, because he worked extra hard through the holiday and his boss was beginning to notice.

The payoff was swift and came about two weeks later in the middle of December when his boss called Louis into his office and announced to him that they would be offering him a promotion to account manager, effective the first day of the New Year. There was a company party on New Year’s Eve, and his elevated position would be announced then.

Louis was shocked. He had always hoped the promotion news would mean big things for him, but had no explicit expectations given everyone else he worked with in his department.

Adam and Chad were his classmates from their MBA program, but Chad was a year ahead of them, which meant he had been with Fidelity in the same position for a year longer than Louis had been there. When Louis told them the news, Adam was thrilled, but Chad didn’t take it very well.

In the moment, he smiled and shook Louis’ hand, but Louis wasn’t an idiot. He could see the anger clearly written on Chad’s face. If Louis was being honest, both he and Chad had expected him to get promoted before Louis based on seniority, and the fact that his parents invested with the company and were pretty powerful around town.

That night, he went back to his shitty studio apartment in the South End and called his mom.

“Hello?” she answered, without having looked at the caller ID based on her tone.

“Hi mom,” Louis replied.

“Hey, honey!” Johannah said a little breathlessly. “Let me just put you down so I can get the twins out of the bath.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said. He took the phone away from his ear and pressed the speaker phone button so he could hear when she came back, before navigating to Instagram. Scrolling his feed for the first time in months, he went to his oldest sister Lottie’s page. She was a few years younger than him, but she was becoming something of an Instagram influencer. When she wasn’t working, she was building her presence. She had about twenty-five thousand followers so far for her looks and tutorials and Louis was crazy proud of her.

He looked at her most recent post and made sure to like it and comment to help her engagement rate before turning to her story. A few months before, she had been sent her first PR package from a brand after applying to be on their list of people who received it to review and she had been so excited. He wondered if she had gotten any more since then. He certainly hoped she did.

“Louis?” his mother’s garbled voice rang out in his apartment.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“There you are! Now, what’s up?” she asked, still a little winded from chasing his four year old twin brother and sister around to wrangle them into pajamas.

“I… um…” Suddenly Louis didn’t know how to start. She never really understood his world of finance, and he found he liked it that way—there was something about the cutthroat world he lived in that he didn’t want infecting and tainting his family and his hometown. “Well, I got promoted today. Or I will be promoted. Soon. They’re going to announce it at the New Year party.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you, honey,” she said. “Guess staying home last month paid off then.”

Louis knew she didn’t mean it the way it sounded. She genuinely meant what she said, but it still felt like a little bit of a dig at his decision to not come home for the holiday.

“Mom,” he said. “I’m really sorry about that. It’s just a lot sometimes.”

“I know, and don’t think we don’t appreciate everything you’ve done for us. But Louis, are you getting any time to yourself?”

“Of course, I’ve got time to myself right now,” he said.

“Right. At nine o’clock, when we both know very well that you’re going in tomorrow at seven again. Time to yourself doesn’t mean to sleep, it means to do something! With yourself! Or, you know… someone else.”

“I go to shows with Niall sometimes.”

“Louis Tomlinson, please promise me you will take some time off soon. What about Christmas?” she asked with hope in her voice.

If Louis needed to wrap up his current work before his promotion on January first, there was no way he was going to be able to get away for Christmas.

“Maybe,” he murmured.

“Well, we’ll be waiting,” she answered softly. “I’m really proud of you, you know that. And I saw what you did. Don’t think we won’t be talking about that at some point.”

“Okay. Bye, mom.”

“Goodnight, honey. Sleep tight.”

Louis hung up and let his head drop until it was against the back of his couch. His mom certainly knew how to get him where it hurt. He missed them terribly, he really did, but a larger part of him would rather see them well taken care of and given anything they could possibly want, and that part won out every time.

The thing his mom wanted to talk to him about was her bank account. When he set up his direct deposit at Fidelity, he had set it up so that half of his paycheck every two weeks went directly into her bank account. He was lucky that he was finally at a place where he could do that with his life.

Yes, he still lived in a shitty studio while all his friends at work were getting nice newly-built condos in Fort Point and the Seaport where they had a ShakeShack in the lobby. But Louis could sleep easily at night, knowing that as long as he kept working hard and stayed on this trajectory, his mom and his sisters would never want for anything ever again.

 

Louis’ first day back at work was slightly uncomfortable to say the least. Adam, who had graduated and started at Fidelity at the same time as Louis, didn’t have any problem with his promotion. The only other person who knew was Chad, and he was still not taking it well.

Chad hadn’t said anything to Louis all day, froze him out entirely, not that Louis really needed his help at all. The rest of the company still didn’t know about the promotion, so he couldn’t really say anything. Louis figured he would just let Chad’s temper tantrum run its course and then they would be able to get on with their work.

He hadn’t counted on Chad’s mother.

Chad was a part of some long upstanding Boston family of some sort, and his name apparently meant something to people. Louis had seen that a little bit growing up in Richmond, but not to the degree that it was talked about in Boston. Specifically, financial circles in Boston.

Chad’s parents were huge clients of Fidelity, and Louis had seen them around the building a few times when they came in for meetings or to take Chad out to lunch. Each time, Louis was his polite and charming self, shaking their hands and complimenting something about his mother. Easy small talk.

This time, he looked up just as they were walking past his workspace and the look he received from Chad’s mother could have frozen an entire city block.

“Hello,” he said and nodded in their direction without getting up. He was hopeful that the chilly look wasn’t for him, but as soon as he opened his mouth it was clear that it was.

Chad’s father was stone faced as they made their way toward Chad’s desk.

Louis tried to shake it off and go back to his work. He was successful for a little while, losing himself in a spreadsheet for at least an hour, until he felt the air shift near the mouth of his cubicle. When he looked up, Chad’s mother was staring at him with her perfectly tailored Valentino suit and manicured fingernails, the skating rink jewels on her neatly tapered fingers, and vengeance in her stare.

“You took my son’s promotion,” she said. It wasn’t a question, there was nothing leading about her tone. Just flat out venom.

Louis faltered. Never in his life had someone been so rude directly to his face. “Um…” he said drawing out the vowel, looking around for anyone to help him. His adrenaline spiked and his cheeks flushed. He was truly out of his depth.

“You took my son’s promotion, and from the stuttering dolt I see in front of me, I can tell you that you do not deserve it,” she added, giving Louis an obvious once over with her thin, penciled in eyebrows raised towards her softly tinted hairline.

Louis’ tongue was stuck in his throat and he had no answer for her. Something about the way she spoke to him made a small part of him feel as though she was right. He truly didn’t deserve the promotion over Chad.

“I can tell you’re trying to determine what you should say. Don’t bother. You will pay for this ridiculous oversight, and you will pay dearly.” Her tone was steely, burdened down with a heavy finality.

She turned on the heels of her plain navy Louboutin pumps, and walked away.

Louis sat staring at the mouth of his cubicle for at least five more minutes, trying to piece together what had just happened. His heart was pounding and he could barely hear any of the ambient noises of the office.

Adam came around the corner and took one look at his stricken face and immediately asked Louis if he was alright.

“Yeah, good,” he replied, a little bit breathless.

His friend still eyed him warily, but Louis waved him off. He was fairly certain that it took him another thirty minutes to brush off the encounter with Chad’s mother. By the time he had calmed down, and gotten back to work, there was only another couple of hours left on the day.

At eight thirty, Adam said goodnight. A little while later, Louis checked his watch. Nine pm and the last in the office. That was a tad unusual, most of the time there was someone else there with him until at least ten.

He rubbed his eyes blearily and leaned back in his chair to stretch his arms up until the joints in his shoulders clicked with a satisfying pop.

There was a certain feeling he got at the end of each day, when he knew the work wasn’t done, and might never be done, so he might as well pack it in for the night. Now was that time. He reached to close everything out on his desktop and shut down his computer, packed up his laptop, and began to bundle himself up to face the harsh Boston weather.

Louis hit the button for the elevator and watched the numbers climb. When the doors slid open, he collapsed against the shiny chrome wall and checked the LCD screens.

December 18th, they read. Damn. Louis definitely wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas and his birthday this year, no matter how sad his mom got on the phone. She would just have to wait until after his promotion. Surely she would understand.

Dragging his feet down to Roche Bros. to scrounge himself some dinner before they closed at ten, he didn’t even manage to make it to the downstairs grocery area, opting to grab a stale sandwich from the prepared food case on the ground floor. After he paid, he crossed the street to Downtown Crossing and just managed to get himself onto the outbound train that was sitting there waiting.

That night, he scarfed his sandwich down as he watched an episode of… something… on Netflix before brushing his teeth and crawling into his bed to pass out. He didn’t even spare the brain power to wonder why it was he was so exhausted.

 

Bright. That was Louis’ first thought upon waking. The light was too bright. Adrenaline spiked and combined with the sinking feeling in his stomach that came with the realization he had probably overslept. He shot up in bed and reached for his phone.

His eyes felt like sandpaper, and he probably hadn’t taken out his contacts the night before, which was not good.

9:07. Shit, fuck, shit. He was going to be so late. Swinging his legs out of bed, untangling them from the duvet, Louis went stumbling towards his bathroom to try and freshen up a bit while simultaneously fumbling with his phone to dig for his boss’ office number.

Shit, shit, shit. This was not the kind of thing he needed to do two days after being offered a promotion.

Vision fuzzy because of the old contacts, he wrenched the door of his medicine cabinet open and dug around for his eye drops and contact solution.

Finally, he got himself sorted out enough that he was no longer blind, and took a few deep breaths. He had approximately ten minutes before he needed to be locking his door behind him. He could do this.

Louis closed the door of his medicine cabinet and almost fainted.

There, facing him in the mirror was an old man. Well, not old, he would say. Middle aged. Retirement age? Louis didn’t really understand ages past forty or so, which was uncomfortably close to his own twenty-five.

“What the fuck?” he asked his reflection. Unfortunately, his reflection asked it back. Louis leaned in close to the mirror, not caring that the extra contact solution he had spilled on the sink was definitely soaking through the front of his boxers.

His hair and his stubble were both a salt and pepper gray, to start. That wasn’t much of a surprise as that had already started happening. The wrinkles by his eyes were deeper, not just appearing when he smiled, but creating actual true crow’s feet, and his skin had thinned and lost some elasticity.

“Holy shit,” he said, as again, the reflection said it back to him.

He reached one finger up to try and lift some of the skin back into place. It fell as soon as he loosened the pressure. Then, he got a good look at his hands. They too were showing the effects of aging. His bones on the back of his hands were more pronounced and his knuckles were a bit more swollen at each joint.

“Hooooly shit,” he breathed out slowly. He stared unblinkingly in the mirror for another moment before turning on his heel and walking out of the bathroom.

Back in his bedroom, he searched around like all of his rumpled blankets and dirty clothes were going to give him answers. Everything looked exactly as he left it, none of it was disturbed or changed in anyway. If this had been a dream, he felt like his laundry would be folded and put away. That was a silly thing to base a dream state on, but Louis was grasping at straws at the moment.

He pinched himself once because, bizarrely, it was worth a shot. Nothing changed.

Louis scampered back into the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror again. He had almost the same haircut, dark gray hair stuck out at all angles, but he could see the general shape. But he looked as though he was definitely at least fifty years old.

That was definitely happening.

His phone rang where it had fallen into the bathroom sink, jingling against the porcelain sides of the bowl.

His boss. Shit.

“John! Hello,” Louis answered, going for the direct approach.

“Where the fuck are- Wait. Tomlinson? Is that you?” his boss halted in his screaming fit about punctuality.

“Of course it’s me, John,” Louis answered, but his boss must not have heard him because he just kept saying ‘Hello?’ over and over again. But he had definitely heard Louis the first time.

“John?”

“Yes, it’s John, now who the hell is this and what have you done with Tomlinson?” the tinny voice demanded. Louis knew that tone. That tone meant put up or shut up.

“No, John, it’s me! Louis!” Louis tried again, but he had a sinking feeling that again, the other man wasn’t hearing him.

Finally there was a click at the other end of the line. Louis was definitely going to get fired. He needed to go downtown and see him in person, maybe that would save his job.

Once again moving at a frantic pace, Louis dug through his closet for a suit that he hoped would still fit. He threw on the first clean one he found and dove for his dress shoes by the front door. He opened his apartment door and trudged down two flights of stairs until he landed in the front foyer and opened the door to the street. Immediately, he regretted everything.

It was December. In Boston.

Swearing up and down, Louis turned around and ran back up the stairs to his apartment, threw on his overcoat and scarf hanging next to the door, and tried again.

While he was desperately waiting for the Orange line, he caught his reflection in the window of the car and again saw a fifty something year old man standing there instead of himself. Maybe he was sixty? Over sixty? Again, he couldn’t tell.

Louis began to hyperventilate as he thought about his predicament. He had definitely gone to sleep last night a twenty-five year old. He hadn’t dreamed that. He was twenty-five. He was.

But, as the car went into a tunnel and it became easier to see his reflection in the window opposite his seat, Louis could see that he wasn't. He didn’t think he had actually aged, or at least his body didn’t feel like it had aged, but his outer appearance looked like it had.

For some reason, the only thought running through his brain at the moment was his mom. He needed to talk to his mom.

He dug his phone out of his pocket, but they were deep underground and there wasn’t even the tiniest bit of service. Louis sighed and sat back in the seat as the car sailed into the Tufts Medical Center stop. Two more to go.

When he finally made it to the security checkpoint in the Millennium Tower, Louis tapped his badge, the way he did every day. On autopilot, he looked up to say hello to the security guard, Jeff.

“Morning,” Louis mumbled as he started walking towards the elevators.

“Sir?” Jeff called out. “I’m sorry, sir, I’m going to have to ask you to stop right there.”

Louis froze, ice dripping down his spine. “Me?” he asked.

“Can I see your badge please, sir?” Gone was the friendly security guard with whom Louis normally shot the breeze and talked soccer stats.

“Jeff, it’s me-” Louis tried to give his name as he handed over the little plastic ID card, but something stopped his tongue.

“Sir, this is not your badge, and to be honest, I don’t recognize you as an employee. Now, there’s no harm done, but I’m going to have to escort you out of the building.” He was using the put-upon placating tone people usually used with people who were being unreasonable. Louis was panicking, but he could see this approach wasn’t going to get him anywhere.

He nodded, watching as Jeff pocketed his badge. There went that plan. “Not a problem,” he acquiesced, turning on his heel towards the sleek glass doors.

Louis’ cheeks burned with humiliation as everyone in the lobby stared silently as they watched Jeff walk him towards the front door. Once he was out on the sidewalk on Franklin Street, he eyed the new T station entrance wearily.

If he got back on the train immediately, it felt a little bit like admitting defeat.

Instead, he turned towards the Common. There weren’t very many people milling about the shopping streets of the Downtown Crossing area the way there normally would be when he had the chance to go. He checked his watch and it read ten on the dot.

He was definitely going to get fired if he hadn’t been already.

Louis found an open park bench near the fountain on the edge of the Common and fell heavily onto the open slats. The wood and iron were cold and damp, given how far into winter they were, but he didn’t really have it in him to get up and find a better place to sit at the moment. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialled his mom.

“Louis!” she answered with a harried breath.

“Mom?” he asked. There was no answer.

“Louis? Are you there?”

After everything that had happened on the phone with his boss, and the way his tongue had tied when he was talking to the security guard, Louis thought he might be catching on to what he could and couldn’t say.

“Hello,” he said outright. Neutral. Impersonal.

There was a beat of silence.

“Who are you and what have you done with my son?” Jay said flatly, frantic energy completely gone replaced by something much more menacing.

Louis muted the call for a moment as he sighed and leaned his head back, willing the burning at the corners of his eyes to go away so he could figure out how to finish this call without his mother calling in the National Guard because she thought he’d been kidnapped.

“Nothing, ma’am. So sorry to bother you. I found this phone on the train and just wanted to return it to its owner.” He did his best to keep the tremors out of his voice.

“Oh,” she said with a jolt. “Well, thank you. That’s kind of you. He works in the Millennium building or something, I’m sure you could leave it with the guards there at the front and they’ll get it to him.”

“The Millennium Tower? I know it. I’ll drop it off there,” he replied, coughing around the way his voice was breaking, his tears finally spilling over his bottom eyelashes trailing silently down his face. It was cold enough that he could feel their tracks beginning to freeze in the wind.

“Wonderful! I’ll let him know to be on the lookout for it, I’m sure he’s frantic looking for it. Thanks again, and bless you, sir,” she added as she hung up her end of the phone call.

The line beeped to indicate the dropped call, and Louis let out a loud sniffle as the floodgates opened and his tears began to spill out a more rapid rate. He stuffed his frozen hands in his pockets and pressed his face deeper into his scarf to try and wipe away the icy moisture somehow.

Cold, and fluctuating somewhere between anger and despair, Louis lifted himself off the park bench to get back on the train and head to his apartment.

Louis walked the few blocks back towards the Orange Line, tapped his Charlie Card again, and made his way through the gates to the escalator.

So far no one had believed him. Well, no one had been able to hear him when he tried to identify himself, which he supposed was a different issue. There had to be a way to test the limits of that somehow. He braved the brisk wind and pulled his hand back out to brave the chilly wind again to try texting Niall.

 **Louis** : Can you come to my apt?

He let his leg jiggle up and down as he tried to preserve his warmth while he waited for an answer.

 **_Message Returned_ ** **.**

Shit. Louis tried to think of the best way to get the message across to Niall that it was important without being specific.

 **Louis** : SOS

Sometimes the classics were classic for a reason. After a few minutes passed and there was no error message, hope started to bloom in Louis’ chest.

 **Niall** : What?

 **Louis** : SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOSOS

Instead of using a possessive, Louis tried a different tack.

 **Louis** : W Newton St

That was the street his apartment was on, he hoped it would be explicit enough that Niall would get the message. He locked his phone and trekked the few blocks back towards the T station to head back to his apartment.

 

“Who the hell are you?” Niall asked after Louis buzzed him up. Bless him for getting there that fast.

“Niall,” was all he tried to say.

His best friend stared creepily into his eyes for a moment. “Louis?” he asked.

Louis couldn’t get the words out, again experiencing the same tongue tie he felt earlier. Instead, he nodded his head.

“What are you playing at?” Niall asked.

Louis stepped aside to let him in and shrugged. “I can’t talk about it,” he said.

“You can’t talk about it? Or you won’t,” Niall said skeptically.

“No, Ni, I literally can’t talk about it. Every time I try no sound comes out.”

Again, Niall simply stared at him. “Huh,” he said finally before turning around to sit on the couch the same way he always did.

Louis waited to see if he would say anything else. He didn’t.

“Huh? That’s all you have to say?” he asked, incredulous that he didn’t have more questions. Any questions, for that matter.

“Well, it seems pretty simple,” Niall shrugged.

“Simple? Ni, I’m _middle-aged_!” Louis cried.

Niall looked on impassively. “Right, but you’re alive.”

That brought Louis up short. “Well, yeah.”

“So that’s a plus. Middle age isn’t so bad, Louis.”

When he put it that way… No. Wait.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t erase the fact that I’m not supposed to be,” he finished, emphasizing each word.

“That’s a fair point,” Niall conceded. “Take a step back. Do you know how this happened.”

“Oh course not, Niall!”

His best friend held up his hands defensively. “Alright, well without knowing how it got done, it’s going to be tough to undo it.”

Louis huffed a breath and dropped down into his seat on the couch in defeat. He hadn’t thought about it that way. “You’re right,” he said with a bone deep sense of resignation.

He sat there for another minute as he exhausted all of the possibilities in his head for what felt like the millionth time.

“What do I do, Niall?”

Niall clapped his hands together. “Start from the beginning. Walk me through everything.”

“I woke up old,” Louis said, flatly.

The eye roll he received in return was entirely warranted. “No, I mean walk me through absolutely everything. How was your night last night?”

Louis cast his mind back. “Fine, I guess. Work was exhausting, and when I got home, I pretty much passed out.”

“So everything was normal when you went to bed?”

Louis nodded vigorously. He knew he had brushed his teeth before bed and he always looked in the mirror while he did that because his apartment was small enough that there was nothing else for him to look at. “Yeah, normal.”

“And then?” Niall prompted.

“And then I woke up old,” Louis reiterated. He really didn’t think it could be said enough.

“Middle aged,” Niall pointed out gently.

“Semantics!” Louis groaned and rubbed a hand down his face.

“Alright, alright. You woke up middle aged.” He rolled his hand towards Louis trying to get him to continue.

Louis glared at him for another moment. “Yes, and it was later than normal because my alarm hadn’t gone off.”

“Okay, so you called work,” Niall added, getting up and digging around in Louis’ pantry presumably looking for snacks.

“And he couldn’t hear me.”

Niall absentmindedly tossed a couple chips in his mouth. “As in, there was no signal?”

Louis thought back to his blurry, adrenaline fueled morning. “No, but it was the same with my mom, you, and the security guard at work for that matter. Every time I tried to identify myself, I couldn’t.”

“Couldn’t?”

“Yeah, the phone call would cut out, or my message to you wouldn’t send. And just now with you and with the guard at work it was like something didn’t want me to speak. I was tongue tied.”

He knew he sounded crazy, he did, he was just glad Niall was okay with crazy to an extent.

Niall was quiet for a few moments. “Job is probably gone then, huh?” he asked softly.

“Yep,” Louis agreed, letting his head drop against the back of the couch.

They sat in silence for a while. Louis’ mind kept turning everything over again and again. He didn’t know what Niall was thinking about. The whole situation made him feel like he was trapped underwater staring up at the shifting light of the surface, all of his potential solutions were just as intangible and mercurial.

“Have you got any money?” Niall asked after a while. The question was startling in the stillness of the apartment.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve been saving for a while now,” Louis admitted.

Niall nodded, tapping his fingers against his thighs. “What do you want to do then? And I don’t mean what do you _think_ you should do with your job and all that. I mean, what do you _want_?”

Louis sighed heavily. “I want my mom.” He hated the vulnerability in his voice, but he also knew Niall was the only person who wouldn’t judge him for it.

“Okay,” he said definitively. “Let’s do it. Let’s get you home.”

“Be realistic, Ni, they’re never going to rent me a car or let me on a plane like this if I can’t identify myself,” Louis pointed out.

“Nah, that’s not a problem. I got a cousin who works at the RMV.”

Louis gaped at him. “Niall!” Though it was Boston, and Niall was Irish and Louis was fairly certain he had a relative in every industry know to man around the city so he really shouldn’t be surprised.

“Will that work?” he asked after a minute, with much less indignance.

“‘Course it will. You leave that part to me. As soon as I’ve got a name, I’ll let you know so you can book the tickets.” He patted Louis’ knee comfortingly.

Louis was skeptical, but that was pretty much the only plan he had at the moment so he had no choice but to go with it.

 

The next day, Niall texted him a name. George Louis Kendall. Sixty-six years old. And his residence was even listed as Louis’ same apartment. God bless the Irish-Americans, even if the whole thing did leave Louis with a lot of lingering questions about the security of the Massachusetts government.

Louis immediately booked a ticket home to Virginia. Niall was going to have the actual physical ID card for him the next day so he would be able to board the plane. Really, he just needed to get out of Boston.

Every morning that passed since that first morning, and every morning he still hadn’t gone back to “normal,” the more worried Louis grew. He received a termination notice from work on his personal email address three days after he woke up and wasn’t able to go in or call.

The night before his flight, he laid in bed in his boxers, idly scratching his bare stomach. At least he had stayed close to his physically fit self in his transformation. All of his clothing still fit enough that he could wear it somewhat comfortably. Everything had just sort of redistributed itself. It was hard to really quantify what had gone where, he could just sort of feel it in how he carried himself.

He eyed the bags he had already packed. Normally he never would have been this organized, but with no job and nothing else to do besides stay at home and watch Netflix, he had gotten it done early.

Because so much of it was online now, Louis had access to his bank account and his 401(k) if he needed it, but he really didn’t want to touch it if it wasn’t necessary. Aside from the fact that he was now practically at retirement age, he didn’t know if whatever this _condition_ was would ever be reversed. If it wasn’t reversed, he needed security. If it was, his millennial real self would still need the security. Even more so, probably, because he would be going back to no job or job prospects, having effectively disappeared.

Unfortunately a termination and a long absence from employment in his field usually had implications. Like rehab. Finding a job later—someday—would be difficult.

 

Louis was quite calm and contemplative the whole flight down to Richmond. He didn’t think he would have been as settled if Niall hadn’t recognized him in this state. Surely his mother would be able to do the same.

They deplaned around lunch time. The airport was done up for Christmas as there were only a few more days to go before his birthday and the holiday.

Louis made the familiar trek towards the rental car pick up and got the keys to his generic sedan before pulling the car out of the garage and steering it in the direction of his mom’s house.

Their neighborhood was quiet and quaintly suburban. When he turned into the driveway and saw his mom’s car, that was when his nerves actually started to kick up. His heart was beating a mile a minute as he rested his forehead against the top of the steering wheel.

He could do this. Jay was his mother. She would absolutely know who he was.

Louis got out of the car, slammed the door a little too hard, and concentrated on the way his shoes crunched in the gravel, disturbing the stillness of the afternoon. When he reached the door, he took a deep breath, steeling himself. He reached his hand up to ring the bell, but as he did, the front door swung open violently.

“I’m not sure, honey, did you leave it in the car?” his mom asked someone inside the house behind her as she kept walking, not paying attention, sure to run into him if he didn’t say something.

“Mom, watch out!” he cried out without thinking.

Jay shrieked in his face.

“Who the hell are you?” she yelled.

Louis had his hands held out in case she ran into him, but kept them up in a placating gesture, trying to calm her down.

“This is kind of a long story, but…” Louis had no idea where to start. Niall had figured it out so quickly that he hadn’t needed a strategy.  “Well…” he trailed off.

“Doris, Ernie, stay inside the house!” She called into the house behind her while keeping her eyes trained on Louis. She still held her car keys in one hand while she used the other hand to slam the front door shut behind her. And wasn’t that just like his mom to put her body and a big slab of hardwood between a strange man and her babies.

Louis felt the corners of his eyes begin to itch and tried to blink a few times to stop them. Tearing up was not going to help him right now. Jay continued to eye him warily.

“I’m so sorry to intrude,” he started, trying a different tack.

“Why did you call me ‘mom’ just now?” she asked, interrupting him without a second thought.

Louis’ eyes widened. “I did? You heard that?”

“Why do you look like my son?” she asked right before she let out a huge gasp and her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Her keys jangled on the pavement of the front stoop and her hands came up to cover her mouth in surprise.

“Oh my word. Louis?” she asked with a small careful voice as one of her hands reached towards his face tentatively.

Louis was silent and tongue tied of his own accord this time, swallowing around the lump in his throat and nodding his head as his tears finally began to fall.

“Sweetheart,” she breathed out as she wrapped him up in her arms, and all he could do was tuck his face into her neck and sob.

 

A week after Louis woke up in the body of a retiree, Louis turned twenty six. Or maybe sixty six. It was hard to tell anymore.

He and his mom had done their best to explain the story to his siblings, His oldest sisters Lottie and Fizzy were already home for the holiday and along with Daisy and Phoebe really understood what was going on—well, as much as Louis did—and had a good laugh about it at his expense.

Doris and Ernie, the younger twins, were only about four and still skeptical but seemed to buy the line that Louis was sick, it was just a kind of sickness that aged him.

His mom had been surprisingly helpful and expedient in calmly insisting that he start figuring out a plan for moving forward. She was pushing him, but in a supportive way that told him she wanted to be a part of his life no matter what, even if he was stuck to live his life perpetually older than her.

She had some good ideas, too.

She was the one who suggested they legally find a way to release the money from a trust his grandmother left. Their family lived comfortably, and Jay’s original plan had been to leave the account alone to accrue interest over time.

Louis had been hesitant to jump on board.

“Mom, that’s your money, I can’t take it,” he had insisted one night after dinner when they were curled up on the couch having a cup of tea.

“Don’t be silly, Louis.”

“Mom-”

“No, I’m serious,” Jay said forcefully. “You want to go back to Boston, which is understandable. Your old life is there, Niall is there, you were made to live in a city like that. I get it. But honey, you have no job, and no way to find a job. The market is tough for someone later in life. Most people that are the age that you look are looking forward to retirement by now.”

When Louis hesitated, she reached across the blanket throw that was draped over their legs and pressed her hands against his. “Take the money, Louis. You were good at your job because you have a head for investments. Invest this money. See what you can do with it. Even if it disappears and the piggy bank goes back down to zero, we’ll be fine.”

She took a breath. “You’ve sent more than enough of your salary back to us over the years, let me do this for you.”

They worked out the terms amongst themselves and started the process with the bank. She too raised her eyebrows at his fake identity but when he claimed the power of Niall, she only smirked and went along with the story. Thank God for small favors.

A month into Louis’ stay at home and the money was in an account dedicated to George L. Kendall, and Louis would have the means to live comfortably for awhile when he went back home to Boston.

Meanwhile, he had never felt so connected to his family. When he was younger, living at home and finishing high school, all of his thoughts were geared towards getting out, leaving Richmond and moving to a bigger city. He always wanted a faster paced lifestyle, had his eye on a business degree. He loved all of his siblings eternally, even when he had wanted out, but at the time they had been much younger, or not even born yet, and they represented his life being stagnant.

Every time he visited for a few days throughout college, he was able to reacquaint himself with their personalities and be a big brother, and it was lovely. But now, their older, more developed selves were much more real to him, and tangible in a way they never had been before.

While he was at home, he could take the burden off his mom and her husband Dan and take care of the youngest ones if they wanted to do something like go out to dinner the same night Daisy or Phoebe wanted to hang out with their friends.

All of the things Louis used to think held him back were freeing now. He had something to occupy his time and take his mind off whatever it was he was living through.

Every day he woke up as a sixty-ish year old, he would start his day a little disappointed, but it would quickly fade to determination. He had a drive to figure his life out, despite the way he had rapidly aged. It clearly wasn’t going away, and he refused to let himself stand still and wallow.

He spent a grand total of two months at home in Richmond. His oldest sister Lottie was a freelance makeup artist and Instagram influencer in Washington, DC a few hours away where she and Fizzy shared an apartment while the latter was still doing her undergrad at Georgetown.

Instead of going straight back to Boston, they invited him to come stay with them for a little while. Given that he had no pressing commitments, he agreed. When they first moved in, he had sent them a housewarming gift—a really nice blender, maybe because Lottie was super into smoothies and green juice at the time—but he had never been to the apartment.

He arrived for his visit with them, and they did their best to show him around town to all their favorite haunts. Lottie took some IG stories with him in the background and he got to see her interact with her growing fan base. He was beyond charmed. He always thought his sister was worthy of adoration, so it was nice to see her recognized for her talent.

Since they had to work while he was there, he did jobs around the house for them. He took some trips to IKEA and built them new storage units for their growing wardrobes, and built Lottie a whole new organization system and vanity for all of her makeup. He watched a bunch of videos on lighting for beauty tutorials and took many, many trips to the hardware store to build her a new set up.

With everything swimming around in his head it was nice to do small projects like that, things that allowed him to both start and finish something real and useful. It made him feel less helpless in his own life. And it was all worth it when her eyes would light up as she looked at the quality of her new videos.

During the course of his stay he learned much more than he ever thought he would know about makeup, but it was nice to learn more about their interests.

By the time he hugged them goodbye at Dulles and boarded a plane back to Boston almost three months after he left, Louis felt much more settled.

He looked older than his twenty-six years, but he didn’t feel older, and that was the important part.

The money from his grandmother’s trust was sitting in his account ready for him to invest when he felt ready while he lived off his own savings day to day. If he did everything right, which he was confident he could come up with a valid investment plan, he would be able to carve out a life for himself somehow.

He could do this.

 

**Two Years Later**

Bright. Louis’ mind slowly cleared as he registered the excess of bright light pouring in through his windows. It was the kind of light that only came from reflecting off the pure white of freshly fallen snow.

As he blinked awake, he remembered that the city was supposed to get a few inches of snow the night before. He hadn’t checked his balcony yet where he kept the gauge, but he had lived in New England for long enough that he knew what the atmosphere felt like directly after a snow storm.

His family was lucky that they had chosen to travel on the first flight out of Logan yesterday—the Sunday after Thanksgiving—in order to get back and let Doris and Ernie have some time before they went back to school the next day.

Louis reached over to his bedside table and felt around until he found the cool acetate frame of his glasses, and put them on in one smooth motion.

The next thing he did was unplug his phone and check his messages. He was sure he had a few meetings that would be canceled due to the weather.

Two canceled meetings, but apparently his lunch with his fund manager at his old job was still on at twelve thirty.

He checked the upper lefthand corner of the screen—9:10. Not too bad, he had plenty of time.

Louis swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed at his eyes before padding across the plush cream carpet of his bedroom towards his ensuite. He flipped on the light switch and admired the smooth marble of his double vanity. He took care of his business, and turned to the sink to brush his teeth.

Two years later, and he still had a bit of a shock every time he saw his older self in the mirror.

When he was done he headed back to his bedroom and his elegant walk-closet. He took off the boxers he slept in the night before and tossed them into his laundry as he reached for some workout gear. After he was dressed again, he made his way downstairs to where his elliptical was set up.

He had come a long way in a very short amount of time.

Coming back to Boston after he stayed with his family in Virginia had been difficult. His family was his rock, and even now they were closer than ever. But they had made a plan, and he knew he needed stick to it if he was going to find the means to go on living.

None of them could have predicted how it would work out.

Louis—as George—decided that if he was going to take the $250,000 left from his grandmother’s trust and invest it, he was damn well going to do it with someone who he knew had half a brain and wouldn’t screw him over. That meant his friend Adam at his old job.

He had cold called Adam asking about opportunities, listing off a few of Adam’s clients he knew would never call to check in and citing them as his source of recommendation.

They had set up a get to know you meeting for lunch. Louis had made a reservation at the Marliave, knowing what it would say about him. People that went for lunch at the Marliave—one of the oldest restaurants in Boston—were universally thought of as somewhat safe traditionalists. It would have been a bit of a red flag for a no-name like “George” to come out of nowhere and then throw around five hundred dollar lunch meetings at uber trendy restaurants.

Louis had been nervous to see Adam in person, worried that he too would recognize him, but there was no context to place “George” as Louis or give Adam any indication that he wasn’t who he said he was.

Having been on the other side of the equation, Louis knew exactly what to say, and what to ask for when the time came. Their initial meeting had been a success, and soon Adam was putting together portfolio options for him.

Oddly enough, the night before they were supposed to finalize his choices, Louis was in his old studio on West Newton street in a bit of an article-spiral reading about the latest news in investing. Something unusual had caught his eye—really, it was only unusual for him—because he knew of the company from Lottie.

There was an old paintbrush company called Hirondelle Brushes that had been on a bit of a decline. The rise of digital art and the 2008 recession had hit them pretty hard. But apparently, they had recently taken on a new CEO who realized that they could change their strategy and start using the technology they had already developed and patented to create makeup brushes.

When Louis visited Lottie and Fizzy and stayed with them in DC, Lottie had received a PR package from them. Apparently cosmetics brands did that fairly often, sent product to influencers for them to review. Lottie was still starting out and didn’t get PR often so she had been extra excited. Over the course of her stay she had tried the brushes and loved them. Then, she had ordered more of their newly burgeoning makeup products and been equally impressed.

The article he stumbled upon said that the company could keep costs low because they were repurposing a lot of systems that they already had in place from previously selling art supplies, which meant that they were producing high quality makeup at a very competitive price. They were still selling art supplies, but in much smaller batches than before.

The next morning, Louis met with Adam, and brought up the possibility of buying stock in Hirondelle. Adam had thought he was a little bit crazy, but the price was low for what it was so they went through with it. Other parts of his portfolio were much more conservative, but Louis’ instincts had been pushing him towards this kind of obscure makeup company.

It took him four months to make his first million on the conservative parts of his portfolio.

It took him a little bit more than a year to make an absolute killing when Hirondelle sold the makeup portion of the company to a cosmetics conglomerate.

Having no real attachment to the company, Louis sold out when the price was riding an ultimate high.

Never in his—or Adam’s—wildest dreams did they think they could have turned around a quarter of a million that way in such a short time.

The first thing Louis did was pay off his mother’s mortgage in Richmond. The second thing he did was purchase a good sized townhouse in Back Bay on Marlborough Street. His home had five bedrooms in it, four bathrooms, and a long dining room. It was plenty of space if and when his family came to visit, which they did often now. That was why he had hosted Thanksgiving this year.

Louis finished his workout and hopped off the machine. He was determined to stay fit at whatever age he was and make the most of his life despite this weird anomaly set back. Niall still came over all the time and they played video games and acted like fools.

But he was still in his sixties on the outside.

As he headed back to his ensuite bathroom he eyed the double vanity again.

The more and more he settled into his weird, warped life at this other physical age, the more and more lonely he felt. Everything else had settled, but he missed having someone to share a life with. He wanted to share his new found wealth.

He just wasn’t attracted to people his “age,” he was still attracted to people that were his mental age. It had taken some getting used to for him—along with everything else he supposed. Louis had always been the type to want a marriage, and to find a partner for life. As was the case with most people, he always assumed that his attraction to his partner would grow and age as they did, and had scorned the older, middle aged men he saw with pretty young things hanging off their arm.

Now, though, he was in the position of wanting to be one of them. He had tried to chat with other men that were his new age, but even though he physically looked the same, he still hadn’t lived those extra thirty or forty years, and hadn’t matured the same way.

He missed having real, fun, flirtatious conversations with people that weren’t Niall and were his own age. Well, mental age.

“You need a sugar baby,” Niall pointed out one night earlier that week.

Louis promptly spat out his tea. “I need a what?” he asked as he tried to mop liquid off his face with the corner of his throw pillow. His housekeeper was going to kill him.

Niall had come over to hang out and play video games the way he always did. Occasionally his girlfriend Hailee would come over as well which was always nice. She had taken some convincing in the beginning when Niall had tried to lure her over to a strange middle aged man’s house. Louis would have been skeptical too. But they had managed to explain the situation somewhat coherently, and she was a regular at his house now.

“A sugar baby. It’s all the rage these days,” Niall added.

“Niall, I don’t want an escort, I want a relationship,” Louis pointed out.

“They’re not escorts, Lou. Well, I guess they are a little bit, but they’re much more than that.”

Louis remained unconvinced, but he was also exceedingly desperate. “What do you mean?”

Niall held his hand out and made grabbing motions for Louis’ phone.

What the hell, he didn’t really have anything to lose, did he? Louis handed it over, and Niall began tapping away and Louis watched him download the app called “Seeking Arrangement.”

“That’s the cheesiest name, Ni,” he groaned.

“No, hear me out, okay? These guys are all mostly in their twenties looking for a way to make some extra cash. They receive money to offer companionship. You have money and want a companion. It’s simple, really.”

Louis eyed him warily. “Nothing is that simple.”

“Look, make a profile while we sit here and watch The Office for the four thousandth time, just try it for the next couple days. If you really don’t find anything worth pursuing, then we’ll come up with another plan. Fair?” Niall asked, holding his hand out for Louis to shake. It was about a step and half above a pinky promise.

Very reluctantly, Louis stuck his hand in Nialls. “Deal,” he said, instantly regretting it.

Niall texted him every day now checking to see if he had found anyone on the app, that Louis definitely hadn’t opened since his friend had left that night.

It appeared he really wasn’t that desperate… yet.

Peeling off his gym clothes, Louis stepped into his large glass shower, letting the hot water roll down his body and wash away his more melancholy thoughts.

He got dressed and checked what the state of Uber’s snow service was. There seemed to be drivers out and about, so he called for one to pick him up and take him across town to his meeting in the Millennium Tower.

The irony that he had turned around and made so much money investing with Fidelity after being fired from there was not lost on him. He was glad he got to work with Adam, someone he respected. When he had been terminated from his old job in his old life, they had given the promotion that had rightfully been his to Chad of all people. The brainless boy wonder.

It was hard for Louis to ask specifically how he was doing because he wasn’t supposed to know anything about Chad other than in passing, but there were times that his curiosity almost completely overtook him. Directing small talk towards him a few times hadn’t been difficult and Louis learned that while Chad was somewhat competent, he hadn’t done anything of note compared to Adam.

Louis smiled as he donned his jacket and exited the townhouse to climb into the waiting car. He watched serenely as soft Christmas music played and the driver navigated the terrible snow banks. No one in the city was prepared for it to snow right at Thanksgiving—it hadn’t done that in years—so none of the plows had been fired up and ready to go.

The streets were somewhat navigable, though, and he made it to his meeting in plenty of time.

He and Adam had the customary small talk, and it was always a struggle to not bring things up that would give him away, like shared experiences from their days at Harvard. When they finished up going over his portfolio, Adam offered to walk him out to the elevators.

“And listen, you should keep an eye out,” he said somewhat casually.

“For what?” Louis asked, genuinely curious.

“An invitation for the annual New Year’s Eve party.”

Louis halted in his steps outside the elevator bay. Fidelity’s annual holiday party, he wasn’t sure how he could have forgotten. Every year the company threw a massive gala for their staff and their particularly good clients. It was always hosted in one of the large convention spaces around town, and there was plenty of food and booze on the company dime.

He had only managed to go once during his field work before he even started working there, but he had never been as an employee. Now, he was being invited as a client. In his new life, there were always moments where he needed to pinch himself to make sure he really was living this semi-alternate reality.

“Well, I’m honored,” he said as smoothly as he was able. He held his wrinkled, aged hand out for Adam to shake.

“Of course. You’ve made us a lot of money this year,” Adam winked. “It’s going to be a good time.”

“Sounds like it,” Louis replied.

“Hey, Adam! How was your meeting with that old queen? Get him to dump some more of that money yet?” Chad’s voice rang out from behind the wall, where he clearly couldn’t see Louis.

Chad came around the corner and halted when he saw Louis standing there. “George. Hi there,” he said, attempting to turn on the charm and failing.

Louis was going to have some fun with this. He brought his hand up to the cashmere scarf draped loosely around his neck and began drawing it through his fingers, with an over sensuality, and drew in close to Chad. Very close. Close enough to make him uncomfortable.

“Hello, handsome, how are you?” he asked, dialling the flamboyance up to eleven.

Louis watched the disgust develop in Chad’s eyes at the very implication that he would flirt with him.

Chad’s jaw worked and his brow furrowed as he actively tried not to say anything.

“Chad-” Adam cut in half-heartedly.

Louis reached a finger out and hooked it under the woven silk of Chad’s tie. “Hmm?” Louis asked as he sat into his hip and tilted his head coyly.

“Take a step back you lonely old fag,” Chad grit out under his breath. Adam lunged forward but Louis held his hand up to keep him back.

Louis gasped and covered his mouth dramatically before tsk-ing and shaking his head. “Sweetheart, you don’t know anything about me or my life. But, what I know, is that you’ll never get any of the commission from me ‘dumping my money’, as you so elegantly put it. And I also know that you’re going nowhere.” He leaned in close so only Chad could hear him. “This promotion was an accident, wasn’t it?”

The elevator dinged so he leaned back and simpered a bit. “Ta-ta, darling!” Chad’s gaze was murderous. The previous occupants of the elevator exited the floor and Louis glided on, greeting everyone still left in the car with a bright, exaggerated smile.

When the doors closed he dropped the act. His travel companions looked at him oddly, but largely ignored it. He hoped Chad stewed in worry that Louis would report him to his boss. Clearly, the threat wasn’t enough to keep him from insulting a client.

Unfortunately, in the boys club that was the finance world, Louis in his old life could get fired for not showing up, but Chad probably wouldn’t be fired for homophobic remarks.

Adam was a gem, Louis thought to himself, as he had many times before. He had always liked him when they were coming up together, and he had proved himself to have the same strength of character.

While his initial desire was to go to Adam with his investments because he knew he could trust him, Louis wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that his petty desire to earn money right under Chad’s nose wasn’t a factor.

He called another car to take him home, not wanting to deal with the T in the snow when he would have to walk a few blocks to his home anyway.

By and large, he had never been bothered by people making homophobic remarks. His whole life they had rolled off his back. Those people didn’t understand what love was. That was what his mother said to him the first time he had heard someone make fun of him behind his back for being gay.

She wasn’t too far off with Chad, too. Truthfully, the homophobic comment hadn’t gotten to him. What had gotten to him, though, was the lonely part. That comment had hit a little too close to the truth and what he had just been complaining to Niall about the other night. Louis unlocked his phone and looked at his calendar for December.

The holidays were coming up soon. He didn’t have an office party or anything, but with all of the companies he had worked with and the philanthropic work he had done since losing his old life, he had been invited to a lot of parties. There were luncheons, and galas, and progressive dinners. They were all fundraisers in one way or another; one of the hospitals, the theater, the museum, the library.

Ensconced in soft, buttery black leather, driving through Boston in the snow, Louis stared at the red Seeking Arrangements app icon.

Before he could second guess himself, he clicked it.

The short car ride was long enough that he could choose a standard profile picture for himself and begin to fill out some of the information. Some of it he didn’t know by heart, even after two years. Theoretically he should be fully immersed in his new identity by now, but he constantly found himself having to correct himself after he put his age in as twenty-seven on forms and things.

He arrived home and locked his phone again to get into the house. Settling in for a nice quiet afternoon, he made himself some lunch, and brought his plate with him into the living room.

There was a random episode of Friends on one of the channels, so he popped it on, but turned the volume on low as he scrolled through Instagram. He didn’t follow any of his old friends, just Niall, Hailee, and his family, so it didn’t take very long before he was finishing off his bowl of pasta and didn’t have anything left to play with on his phone.

Except.

Louis only hesitated a moment before opening up Seeking Arrangements again. His profile wasn’t complete from what he had done in the car, so he finished answering the rest of the questions and then waited as the app began sorting out potential people for him to meet.

Taking deep breaths, he immediately began to eliminate candidates. The app had implemented the same swiping tool that Tinder and even OkCupid used now, so it was easy for him to begin learning what to look for in his potential matches.

He hadn’t set any limitations initially, but… if he was being honest with himself, he kind of wanted to find out what would happen if he searched for someone his own age. Rather, someone his previous age.

Absentmindedly he folded one hand over his wrist and pulled the loosening skin on the back of his hand taut as he searched.

Just for fun, he put in the limitations he was thinking about. Educated. Lived downtown. Under thirty-five. Louis blushed to himself as he filled out that field.

One potential match went by and then another. And another.

And then Louis’ breath caught in his throat.

The picture was a little dark and at an odd angle, presumably to preserve his identity, but Louis would know that silhouette anywhere. He had harbored a long enough crush, and seen him in more than a handful of theater productions.

Harry Styles.

Well, “Harry, 25.” What were the odds?

Louis’ heart rate spiked and he dropped his phone down so that it was cradled in the dip of the blanket draped over his legs.

He didn’t know what to do.

His immediate gut reaction was to “like” his profile and send him a message. But on the other hand, he hadn’t ever had a good opportunity to have a conversation with Harry and ask him out when they were the same age. Did he really want to enter this weird kind of dynamic with him where he was paying for Harry’s company?

There was only one solution to this problem.

He screenshotted the profile and texted it to Niall without any sort of caption or context.

 **Niall** : FUCK YESSSSSSS

 **Niall** : GET IT MR. HARRY STYLES

 **Louis** : What do I do?

 **Niall** : Wyd texting me. Fucking message him

Louis went back to the app and looked at Harry’s profile again. He traced over the lines of Harry’s back lit jaw and the little curls of his hair around his ears.

It was possible that he was permanently in the body of someone over sixty. The promise that he made to himself was that he was going to enjoy it, and fuck if he wasn’t going to actually enjoy it.

GL, 60. Back Bay.

_Harry,_

_Good afternoon. I hope my message finds you well. I’ve got a few parties coming up for the holidays, and I was wondering if you would be willing to accompany me as my date._

_I would love to meet for coffee sometime soon to get to know each other, and see if we’re compatible._

_Best,_

_GLK_

Now, he waited. He blew out a breath and turned his phone off so that he wouldn’t spend all his time staring at the app.

He tapped his fingers on his bowl from lunch a few times while he watch Friends on a low volume. Why was he wasting something as useful as mindless television? He reached over and turned the volume up. The laugh track rang out around his living room.

There were a few things he needed to do for the rest of the day, but absolutely nothing that was pressing enough for him to completely immerse himself in the project and try to forget about waiting for a response from Harry.

This was useless, there was no way-

 _Ding_.

The notification sound on his phone echoed in the room despite the noise coming from his TV.

_Harry, 26 has given you access to his photographs._

Louis sucked in a breath. That could mean anything. It could just mean that Harry was vain and wanted Louis to compliment him more than he had in his initial message. Shit. He should have complimented him more.

The tiny pictures dotting Harry’s profile were too tempting for Louis to resist. He tapped the first one and was met with more personal images of the man he knew and somewhat followed.

That made him sound like a stalker.

Louis was simply a fan of theater, and had his favorite actors. Actor. Everyone did that to an extent when they followed regional theater especially in a place like Boston. And these photos were miles above Harry’s headshot photo. Much more interesting and oddly filtered.

_You have 1 new message._

Louis’ adrenaline spiked again, and he couldn’t get enough of a handle on himself to open the message.

_Harry, 26_

_Dear GL,_

_That’s an interesting name. You look very handsome in your pictures! What sort of parties would we be attending? What line of work are you in? (That’s assuming they’re for work.)_

_I haven’t had an arrangement for a little while and would definitely be interested in meeting to discuss details._

_Best,_

_Harry_

Louis didn’t realize that his grin was so wide and all encompassing until his cheeks began to hurt. Harry was so sweet and polite in his message back to Louis. In this day and age of the internet and speed of messaging, it was nice to “meet” someone who seemed like they had half a brain and typed in complete sentences.

It certainly didn’t hurt that his crush on Harry had existed for the better part of eight years.

Harry replied quickly, and they arranged a time to meet for coffee the following day. Because of how early Thanksgiving was this year, Louis didn’t have much on his schedule for the next week and half until December first rolled around and his holiday schedule began to kick into gear.

The concept of not quite having a job while still having a million and one things to do was new to him. Niall had been invaluable when Louis was building his new life—with added money—because he had grown up this way with charity boards, and fundraising meetings, and committees, and finances. It made Louis’ head spin sometimes, but it was so much more fulfilling to provide financial and investment advice to non-profits than it had been to the clients at his old job.

Now, all he had to do was wait and try to mitigate what he knew would be an inevitable crisis the next day. He pulled out his phone to update Niall.

 **Louis** : Coffee meeting tomorrow

 **Niall** : Yes!!!!

 

The crisis Louis predicted hit him harder than he expected the next day. Lottie was on FaceTime helping him pick out his outfit and use concealer to cover his dark circles to make him look less like the living dead. He was feeling less than confident in his ability to convince Harry to go on dates with him for money.

The night before he had spent all night reading up on how these relationships usually worked and it had been eye-opening. Unfortunately, they weren’t all positive. In this day and age, a fair amount of the stories he found were negative with a lot of young men and women on the app describing how they had been taken advantage of in their arrangements.

The thought of Harry getting that kind of treatment made Louis sick to his stomach. He was clearly too emotionally invested in Harry, which was absolutely ridiculous because aside from a few waved greetings during undergrad, they had never actually met.

Louis took deep even breaths as he walked towards the new cafe right on Boston Common, just a few doors down from the building that housed the class they had together eight years before. The cafe was European style, and Louis didn’t see Harry yet, so he ordered a pot of tea and retrieved it before sitting down at one of the tables.

While waiting for Harry, he couldn’t help but stare down at his hands as they wrapped around the teacup. He had wrinkles and some sunspots that dotted the thinning skin there. These were the hands of someone over sixty.

In general, he tried to keep himself occupied enough that he didn’t think about his… condition, but there were times that he truly couldn’t escape it. Like now, waiting for Harry to join him. A deep sadness washed over him thinking about the million other ways he could have met Harry before now, if he was young again. He had so many opportunities in the past that he had given up through an odd combination of fear of rejection and lack of desire to get into a relationship.

Louis had been so career driven, it wasn’t until he had no career that he could truly appreciate everything he had missed when he was younger. He hated to be a cliche, but youth really was wasted on the young.

Before he could get too buried in his thoughts, the front door of the cafe opened with a gust of wind. There was quite a chill in the air, and when Louis naturally looked up to find the source, he saw Harry.

Between shows he attended around town to try and catch an hour long dose of him, Louis would always wonder why he was so fascinated by him. Part of it was any patron having a connection to any actor. Once an audience member saw someone in something once, they tended to recognize them in the future.

Harry was different, though. He had a magnetism about him that was always much more compelling in person than Louis remembered, every time.

Their eyes caught over the sea of college students using the large tables in the middle of the cafe to study. The front section was all grab and go with tables and outlets, while the back half was a more closed off sit down dining space.

Louis couldn’t help the small grin that spread across his face as he held up his hand to wave. Harry’s eyes lit up and he returned the wave as he zig zagged around the smaller tables. When he made it within a few feet, Louis stood up to greet him and held out his hand.

“Harry. Hi,” he said around the lump in his throat.

“Hello, there G.L.” Harry replied returning the handshake. They stood standing and holding hands for a beat too long and Louis cringed at the unfamiliar name.

“Call me Louis, please,” he said. He used George formally, but everyone close to him used Louis. Niall had been instrumental in giving him that as his legal middle name so it was very easy to explain away.

“Louis,” Harry confirmed, his eyes glittering.

Louis gestured at the teapot and mugs on the table next to him. “I’ve ordered some tea, but if you’d like to sit with a little more privacy we can get a table. Maybe a nice snack? Cheese board?”

Harry looked around them to eye the other patrons in the front of the cafe. “Some privacy might be nice,” he replied.

Louis nodded and gestured for Harry to lead the way to the hostess stand next to the bar. The wool of Harry’s jacket was soft under Louis’ palm as he placed his hand on Harry’s back to lead him. He held it there for the whole distance before he actually realized what he was doing. Almost immediately he dropped it as though Harry’s coat had burned him.

God, restraining himself around Harry was going to be difficult, but that was Louis’ aim. He wanted no part in taking advantage of him in anyway. He would not be that guy.

But there was something about Harry that made Louis want to take care of him and show him off at the same time. There had to be a way he could do that without being a total sleazeball.

The hostess greeted them politely and Louis told her about his tea and that they would like to switch to a table. She smiled warmly before leading them around the side and insisting she would take care of the wayward tea herself.

She was wearing a tight gray sweater dress, and while she was bending over backwards to serve them, Louis didn’t miss the way she kept eyeing Harry. She probably assumed that their relationship was platonic.

Which it was, Louis had to keep reminding himself.

When they were brought to their table, Harry had barely gotten his coat off before she was back with the tea.

Once they were both settled, Louis reached for the pot to pour Harry a cup. As he looked up he noticed that Harry was leaning on his crossed elbows and watching him with a sweet smile.

Louis blushed and put the pot down. Harry’s eyes sparkled in the soft warm light of the cafe, and Louis couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I’m so sorry, but I have absolutely no idea what to say,” he admitted.

Harry’s eyebrows raised in shock for a split second before he smirked at Louis. “You’ve been doing just fine so far, believe me.”

“That is comforting I suppose. Would you like to order something? We can get that out of the way before…” he trailed off not knowing what to call it. “Everything.”

“Sounds good,” Harry replied before ducking his head down to read the menu. Louis couldn’t help but melt at how endearing he was. He didn’t seem uncomfortable in the slightest, and had maintained eye contact with Louis the whole time.

Louis was too busy admiring Harry and he missed what he said. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I was just saying that since you mentioned the cheese board, I can’t get it out of my head. Would you like to split it?”

“Sure, that sounds great,” Louis replied.

Harry clicked his tongue at him and looked up at him through his eyelashes. “You didn’t even look at what’s on it. I could just order eight different kinds of bleu cheese and call it a day. Then where would you be?”

Louis’ looked at him, feeling this inexplicable undercurrent between them while his competitive spirit flared to life for the first time in years. He leaned forward towards the middle of the table to close the distance between them. “Bring it on.”

Harry barked out a laugh as he closed the menu.

The hostess had to have been watching him, because she was at their side immediately. “Can I get you gentlemen anything?”

Harry’s eyes never left Louis’ as he handed her his menu. “The cheese board please, heavy on the stinky ones. And a Stella for me as well.”

“Okay,” the girl replied, dragging out the syllable for a bit longer than necessary, waiting for Harry to turn his full attention to her. He and Louis were still locked in their battle of wills, so she huffed away unsatisfied.

As soon as she was out of earshot, they both dissolved into a fit of laughter, awkwardness forgotten and the ice completely broken.

“I hope you’re ready for stinky cheese,” Harry said, reaching for his tea to take a sip.

“I hope you’re ready to taste every single one,” Louis challenged.

Harry blushed prettily under the lights, and Louis felt a flare of heat in the pit of his abdomen.

Down, boy, he reminded himself as he cleared his throat and searched for a conversation topic.

“So,” he said, gearing up for the awkwardness to return.

“So,” Harry replied. He was a little minx, wasn’t he, Louis thought to himself as he felt that heat flare again.

“I contacted you for a reason, which I must say I’m having a hard time remembering right now,” Louis added huskily. Never let it be said he couldn’t charm the best of them.

“Mmm,” Harry hummed as he sipped his tea again. “I am too, if I’m being honest.”

This could be an act, Louis had to remind himself. Harry wanted Louis to agree to an arrangement with him. This meeting had a larger purpose on his end. Louis just didn’t want to go stag to a few parties.

“I find myself to be in need of a companion for a few events.”

“I don’t do orgies,” Harry said, deadpan, holding it for a second before his smile cracked the edges of his expression.

Louis snorted. “Very funny, I meant a few holiday parties. Charity functions mostly. One or two luncheons. Then one very formal gala on New Year’s Eve.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “Oh! That would be nice. I love a good charity function.”

“Is the New Year’s event alright, you don’t have any other plans?”

Harry shook his head. “No, I don’t. Will there be an event on Christmas Eve?”

“Nope. The latest I might have something is the twenty-third, but not the twenty-fourth. Does that work for you? No travel plans?”

“That should be fine. My family lives nearby, so I’ll just be driving out there,” Harry said just as their cheese board arrived.

They could definitely smell the stinky cheeses as the waiter put the tray down on the table in front of them. Louis could tell Harry was doing his best to hold in his giggles as the waiter very kindly explained each of the five cheeses in detail as well as the charcuterie selections that came with it.

Something happened in the midst of the explanation, though, because his face had fallen a bit by the time the waiter was walking away.

“Is this alright? I know I was being silly, but we can actually order something else if you’d like?” Louis asked.

Harry’s hair fluffed around his ears with his quick dismissal. “No this is fine. I just… I know I was the one who joked about it, but I wanted to make sure it was clear from the beginning especially because I like you so far.” Harry continued to ramble, and Louis’ heart began to sink as he geared himself for a simple but polite rejection. “It’s just, sex isn’t something I include for anyone, and a lot of people don’t understand that rule,” he rushed out all at once as one hand came up to his lips and he began to pinch his bottom lip between his thumb and his forefinger.

The ball of anxiety and upset building up in Louis’ chest quickly began to unwind. His pasted on his friendliest, most comforting smile and reached a hand out across the table, careful not to touch Harry in case he took that the wrong.

“Harry, that is more than alright. I absolutely respect that, and if that’s a boundary you have I wouldn’t want to cross it. I promise all I need is a companion.”

Harry’s hand dropped from his lip and he remained a bit tense, but the line of his shoulders was beginning to loosen. “Arm candy?” he snorted.

“Something like that, yeah,” Louis shrugged.

“You couldn’t find a date?” he asked incredulously, and it did wonders to Louis’ ego, even over sixty as he was. It would have stroked his ego at twenty-seven, too.

Louis shifted uncomfortably. “I probably could have, but to be honest, I didn’t try that hard. My situation is unique.”

“Aww, everyone has relationship problems. That’s part of the reason why this sort of ‘service’ exists,” Harry said lowering his voice and putting air quotes around the word.

“You’re sweet to say that,” he said, truly meaning it. “But it’s a little bit more than problems.”

Louis imagined that becoming someone’s sugar baby took a certain amount of skill at reading people, and there was no doubt in his mind that he was broadcasting body language that indicated he didn’t want to talk about his issues at the moment, because Harry skillfully changed the subject.

“Speaking of this service, I’ve already told you my no sex rule. If that appeals to you, and agree to the fee I had listed at $300 per event plus expenses, then I think we’re in business,” Harry said succinctly, taking a sip of his ice cold Stella Artois.

Louis couldn’t help the playfulness that Harry had awakened in him. It was simmering in his bones, and internally he was leaping at the chance to indulge it.

He leaned back against the bench seat. “Only if you try all the stinky cheeses,” he smirked.

Harry’s eyes bulged and his lips popped open with a little gasp of surprise. He stared at Louis in surprise for a moment waiting for him to say he was kidding, and that he wouldn’t make Harry do that. Louis didn’t back down, only licked his lips and kept his mouth shut.

Just as Louis was about to break, when the silence had grown a little bit too unbearable and he realized he must have pushed him too far, Harry’s eyelids fluttered coquettishly as he reached for the cheese knife that was artfully laid across the wood of the board.

Using the rounded tip of the knife, Harry cut a small chunk of the first one and brought it to his lips. Louis almost fainted dead away as he ate it tongue first, but he managed to keep his cool.

“Well?” he asked.

Harry scrunched his nose in disgust before he shook his head and swallowed. “Cheddar, yum.”

Louis wanted to stay straight faced but he couldn’t help the sharp laugh that escaped. “You big faker,” he teased.

Harry tried each of the rest of the cheeses in turn that ranged from stinky to stinkier leaving the rest of the mild cheddar to end on after he was done. By then end of it, they were both doubled over with laughter.

The afternoon faded into evening as the sunset outside the large floor-to-ceiling windows at the front of the cafe, and they chatted aimlessly for the rest of their time together before Harry had to run to a rehearsal. When he mentioned that, Louis saw his opening.

“I have to confess something,” he said. Harry tilted his head quizzically, his cheeks delightfully pink in the candle’s glow. “I have, in fact, seen you in a few things around town before.”

Harry’s smile drew even higher in delight. “Really? You have?”

Louis nodded. “I recognized your picture when I saw you on the app.”

“Well, did you like me?” he asked, goading Louis into complimenting him, using that same coquettish look from earlier. As much as Harry seemed like he was joking, the man so clearly had a craving for praise and not for the first time in the evening, Louis was beginning to get a little hot under the collar.

“Yes, you know you’re good,” he said pointedly. “Come on, let’s get going. Wouldn’t want you to miss your rehearsal.”

Harry giggled as he stood up to put his coat back on, and Louis couldn’t help but watch as the hem of his shirt lifted up just enough to show his waistline and the stiff black leather of his belt, but not far enough for Louis to catch a glimpse of his skin. He would never admit to holding his breath the whole time waiting for it.

They said goodbye out in front of the cafe once they were completely bundled up, so Louis could only just barely feel the kiss Harry pressed to his cheek.

“See you soon, Louis,” he said as he turned to cross the street and go below ground to get on the green line.

“Bye,” Louis called after him, but it got lost in a heavy gust of wind.

After meeting him and actually having a conversation, Louis’ rather dormant crush on Harry had come flaring back to life. Over the course of one afternoon, Louis felt more like himself than he had in almost two years.

Keeping his relationship with Harry platonic was going to be challenging, but Louis was determined to do so.

This was going to be an unexpectedly difficult holiday season.

 

The very first test that this arrangement would work was a luncheon. There was an historic library that he had recently become a high level donor for, and as a result he was invited to a holiday luncheon to celebrate the other new donors.

There was a cafe next door, and Louis agreed to meet Harry there before they went over to the library together. He respected Harry’s desire for privacy. If he was meeting a strange man from the internet, he would want to keep his address private as well.

“Louis. Hi,” Harry said as he reached his arms out to embrace Louis where he stood.

Louis gave himself a brief moment to relax into the hug. Harry gave off a pleasant scent of vanilla layered with something musky. It was intoxicating.

Harry had asked him ahead of time what the dress code was for the luncheon, and Louis had told him business, but that it was by and large a cultural institution so he should feel free to be creative despite the organization’s conservative reputation.

What Louis got in return was a beautiful floral printed blouse over black slacks and boots all under a chic long black overcoat. Harry looked amazing.

All at once a fantasy popped into Louis’ head of doing this for real. He, as his twenty-seven-year old self, walking the few blocks up from the Fidelity offices on his lunch break and meeting up with his super hot creative-type husband.

He blinked the vision away before he could fall too deeply into it.

They arrived for the luncheon that was being held in one of the historic rooms, and Harry was nothing short of brilliantly charming. If Louis introduced him to someone, Harry engaged them in conversation, he paid rapt attention when the speeches were made—which was more than Louis could say for himself—and he had impeccable table manners.

The thought occurred to Louis then that Harry very well could have been born into this life like Niall or Chad. He hadn’t needed any of the tutelage that Louis had in the beginning.

All throughout the mean and the remarks, Harry played his part well. He was incredibly tactile with Louis, but in a casual way, as though they had been together for quite some time. When they weren’t eating, he kept his hand on Louis’ leg posessively and leaned fully into his space to speak to him and whisper in his ear.

While Louis knew he looked like he was in shape and attractive for over sixty, and Harry looked somewhat older than his twenty-five years, he could only imagine the picture they made. When he hatched this plan there was always a chance that he would send a few of the stauncher members’ tongues wagging, especially at the library.

He shrugged and put his arm over the back of Harry’s chair. As grumpy as those members were, Harry’s infectious smile was sure to win them all.

After the meal was finished, Louis took him on a tour of the rest of the building.

“It’s so beautiful in here,” he breathed as he took in the unique views of the city. Ironically, Millennium Tower was smack dab in the middle of it, Louis thought to himself. He was glad that this event had worked out so smoothly with Harry, and any lingering doubts about his plan had been eased. Now, he had absolutely no qualms about inviting Harry to the rest of his events that season, including the Fidelity gala.

They took their drinks back downstairs to the lobby and bundled up to leave. When they were alone in the foyer, Louis called for his car.

He turned to Harry. “Would you like me to drop you off?” he asked, not thinking about the privacy issue until the words were already out of his mouth and he could see the hesitation in Harry’s expression. “You can say no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to press for your address.”

The pinch on the edge of his smile relaxed. “It’s fine, actually. I was just thinking that it’s pretty cold out to walk.”

Louis held the large double door open for him as they rushed out to the sidewalk. Settling into the buttery black leather of the seats, Louis let his head drop back against the car seat before letting it loll to the side to face Harry.

“Thank you for being such a good sport today.”

Harry blinked at him for a moment. “Don’t mention it. That was one of the most interesting dates I’ve ever been on doing this.” The grin that spread across his face was lazy and relaxed, softened by the wine they had with lunch.

Words burned at the back of Louis’ throat and he couldn’t stop them from bubbling up and escaping. “I know, but it can’t be fun to hang out with an old fart like me,” he murmured.

Harry slid closer on the seat bench and reached for Louis’ hand to grasp it in his. “Do you know why I got into this?” he asked.

Louis shook his head as Harry rotated their wrists and twined their fingers together. “Money?”

“New experiences,” Harry said as he nudged Louis playfully with his shoulder.

Louis’ incredulity must have been written on his face because Harry blew out an exasperated breath. “Alright. Yes, also money.”

He didn’t move away from Louis and didn’t separate their hands, content to sit there in warm, comfortable silence for the rest of the ride.

“I like spending time with you, Louis,” Harry finally whispered. “You have a young soul.”

Ice shot through Louis’ veins and he stiffened immediately. Harry probably thought he was reassuring Louis. Complimenting him. All it served to do though was remind Louis that he did have a young soul, and it didn’t match what he looked like on the outside. As the thought sank deeper into his conscience, his comfort disappeared.

The car stopped in front of Louis’ townhouse, and Harry looked around confused. “Where are we?” he asked eyeing the neighborhood for familiar landmarks.

“This is my place,” Louis said as he gathered his scarf and gloves. “Feel free to tell Fred where you need to go and he’ll take you there.”

Harry’s expression softened. “Thank you,” he mouthed as Louis leaned over in the open door. Before he could overthink it, he leaned back into the backseat and popped a kiss on Harry’s cheek, savoring one last hit of his unique scent. “Not a problem.”

Louis stood back, shut the door, and tapped the cold metal roof with his gloved hand to let Fred know it was okay for him to take off.

 

They developed a bit of a pattern over the next few weeks leading up to Christmas. Louis had a handful of events a week for Harry to attend with him so they had gone on about ten dates. Each and every one of them had been amazing. Idyllic.

Harry was the most wonderful date, more perfect that Louis could have ever imagined.

When Harry accompanied him to things, he always had the time of his life and he truly didn’t know how he had gotten through so many events without Harry by his side for the past year or so since his investments had paid off.

The only issue between them that cropped up every now and again was this… undercurrent between them. There was an energy that Louis couldn’t shake that kept everything from being completely platonic and above board. And it was driving Louis absolutely crazy.

The playfulness that Harry brought out of him had manifested itself into a kind of game that they played when they were bored at events. They would tease each other endlessly, but Louis soon discovered that Harry didn’t get embarrassed the way most people did.

Something inside of him relished in pushing Harry as far as he was willing to go, and now that they had started, he didn’t know how to stop it. It was a warped version of Truth or Dare except that it was only Louis subtly daring to do things that flirted with the edge of decency.

Louis would push him and push him and Harry met every challenge with a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye.

At a cocktail party for the theater, it finally came to a head.

Louis had become a high level donor there at the theater Harry worked at most often. They were amongst people they both knew, and Harry was well on his way to tipsy—giggling and leaning on Louis, using him to support his wobbly legs as he spun around greeting everyone with a kiss on each cheek.

There was a pompous director by the name of Ben Winston that Harry had worked with on a few shows in the past—Louis knew because he saw the production and it had been a blatant rip off of the one across town. Ben had managed to trap Harry and Louis in a conversation, but he was so blatantly making eyes at Harry that something deep and real and green was roiling in Louis’ gut.

Maybe it was that the man was at least twenty years younger than Louis appeared to be. Maybe it was that the man’s wife was standing less than ten feet away. Or maybe Louis just didn’t like the guy. But no force of will could have stopped Louis from taking advantage of a break in the conversation as someone interrupted them to lean over and intimately whisper in Harry’s ear; “Call him by the wrong name. I dare you.”

He could feel more than hear the rasp from Harry’s quick intake of breath. Harry shifted and leaned back away from Louis. His eyes flashed with uncertainty as he searched Louis’ gaze. Harry knew he could refuse at any time, but Louis also knew exactly how Harry felt about Ben and the time they spent together. The man was a jerk with a roving eye and had been particularly handsy with Harry when “directing” him—or so Harry had said in the car on the way to the event.

Louis was predisposed to trust Harry’s judgment anyway, but now that he saw how the man behaved in Harry’s proximity, he had no doubt.

He raised his eyebrows to challenge Harry again. He watched as Harry’s eyes searched his for a moment and a sly grin bloomed on his face.

Ben turned back to the to rejoin the conversation, and Louis sat back to watch as he focused solely on Harry. The man’s body was drawing closer and closer to Harry. Louis might as well have been invisible. Every time Harry moved he was forced to touch Ben in some way.

Making the dare and putting the response in Harry’s hands had loosened some of the anxiety and insecurity Louis felt before. Harry wanted to mess with Ben just as much as Louis did.

The conversation continued and Ben did his part to cut Louis out of it more and more until their whole group got jostled and Ben seized his moment to reach up and brush his hand down Harry’s back. Louis caught the movement out of the corner of his eye just as Liam, the executive director of the theater, clinked his glass to gain the room’s attention.

The man launched into a speech that was carefully designed to get people to open up their wallets again, and the air moved next to Louis. Ben leaned over to whisper something in Harry’s other ear. All Louis caught was the word “later,” and rolled his eyes. Both Louis and Ben’s wife were still in very close proximity. Did the man genuinely think Louis was that stupid?

Harry remained still, facing forward, and didn’t react outwardly to the proposition, instead he grabbed and squeezed Louis’ hand hidden out of sight by his suit jacket.

When the executive director of the theater was done with his speech he folded back into the crowd to mingle, and Harry casually held his hand up in greeting to flag him down. Always affable, the man’s eyes lit up as he came towards them.

“Harry!” he cried out as he got closer, opening up his arms to embrace him.

“Hey, Liam,” Harry said. As he turned he winked at Louis imperceptibly. Ben wasn’t thrilled at the interruption in their conversation, but he looked even smugger than before if that was possible. Louis was convinced Ben thought Harry was a sure thing.

“How’ve you been, Harry?” Liam asked as he sipped his eggnog.

“I’ve been great, yeah. Looking for a new project soon, I think,” Harry trailed off, before angling his body towards Ben. “Now that you mention it, I was just thinking about how great the show was that Brad and I did here!” The hand that was holding Harry’s red wine got dangerously close to Ben’s crisp white shirt as he gestured. His eyes shot to Louis’ immediately, to make sure he heard. Louis was endeared by his lack of subtlety.

Adrenaline pulsed through Louis’ body as he followed the thought’s path across Ben’s face. The man’s brow furrowed and he did a double take. His body froze mid-shift as though he wasn’t quite sure how to handle such an awkward situation.

He saw the gears turning in Ben’s head: Did he hear Harry correctly? Was it a mistake? Should he say something?

Louis rolled his lips in to try and keep himself together.

Unaware of the undertones in their conversation, Liam agreed and mentioned a few of the shows they were considering for the next season.

“Well you know,” Harry said, cocking his hip and leaning in closer to Ben’s body to whisper conspiratorially. “Brad here is such a talented director, I think you should put him on.”

Louis had to be very careful not to do a spit take with the sip of beer he had just taken. Harry was a marvel.

Ben floundered, opening and closing his mouth, not sure what to say and getting redder by the moment.

He locked eyes with Harry again as the heat flowed through his body. He shouldn’t take such pleasure in Ben’s squirming, he really shouldn’t. But… Harry looked so pleased with himself, positively glowing from the wine and the accomplishment of completing his dare.

Ben cleared his throat. “It’s, um. It’s Ben actually.”

Harry curled into Louis and pressed his free hand flat against his chest, letting it dip intimately under Louis’ jacket. He contorted his body enough that he could comfortably lean his head against Louis’ shoulder. “Oh, haha. Silly me! Brad, Ben. Did you hear what I said, Lou?”

He sounded much drunker and sillier than Louis knew he was, and Louis wished he could match his performance, but his throat was tight with want as he felt the heat of Harry’s palm flat on his rib cage.

Louis took a fortifying sip of cold beer from the bottle in his other hand and pressed a kiss to Harry’s hair before he locked eyes with Ben. “Yeah, I heard, baby. Do you want to get some dessert before we head home?”

“Ooh, I wonder if they have hot chocolate?” Harry said, still maintaining his act.

“Let’s go see,” Louis whispered. “Liam,” he said clapping the very confused executive director on the back. “Always good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too, Louis. Merry Christmas!” Liam called after them.

Louis let his arm fall to circle Harry’s lower back. “Merry Christmas!” he called over his shoulder as he led Harry away in the opposite direction from where they were serving dessert.

They made it to the hallway with the coat rack before they burst into laughter, holding on to each other while they caught their breath.

“Oh, wow,” Louis said wiping away the tears at the corner of his eyes, the wrinkles he felt there not enough to put a damper on his mood this time.

“Did you see his face?” Harry wheezed. Louis snorted and tried to keep himself from breaking up again.

“That was priceless,” he agreed as he reached for their coats. “I should have asked. Are you actually ready to go?”

Harry nodded and turned around so he could put his arms through his sleeves as Louis held his coat up for him. Louis smoothed the coat over his shoulders before turning to put on his own. They both hunched their shoulders against the chill in the air as they crossed from the theater lobby into the waiting car.

Coming off the high of how they ended their evening was worse than normal this time, Louis thought to himself, as Harry curled up next to him on the bench seat in the car. The tension had been ratcheted up between them, the atmosphere tense and palpable.

They arrived at Louis’ townhouse first as was customary, and he asked something he had been waiting to ask for two weeks now.

“Would you like to come up for a night cap?”

Slight concern bloomed on Harry’s face and Louis squeezed his hand to reassure him as Fred cut off the engine.

“I don’t expect anything, I promise. Just… some more company.”

“Alright,” Harry whispered.

They climbed out of their opposite car doors, and Louis reached into the deep pocket of his coat to fumble with the keys. He bit the tip of the forefinger of his glove between his teeth and pulled, ignoring the strong leather taste in his mouth. Hands free of the fabric, he had a much better grip on the freezing cold metal.

The house was quiet and dark as they climbed the front stoop and Louis unlocked the door.

“Here we are,” he said as he flipped the lights on in the entryway. They took their coats off in an eerie mirror to how they had just put them on twenty blocks away.

Louis led Harry through the house on the ten cent tour, and Harry oohed and aahed appropriately. They settled on opposite ends of the couch next to the fire for a glass of wine and ended up staying like that talking for quite some time.

The clock rounded midnight, and Harry stifled a yawn.

“Tired?” Louis asked.

Harry nodded sheepishly. “I love talking like this, but it was probably all the red wine,” he admitted.

They stood simultaneously and Louis placed their glasses on the coffee table before they made their way back to the foyer.

When Harry was once again bundled up against the elements, Louis leaned against the wall of the narrow hallway.

“Are you sure you don’t want to just stay? I’ve got lots of empty bedrooms,” he said on a laugh to make it sound less pathetic. He didn’t want to let Harry go, he wanted to hold on to his energy and spirit and he couldn’t bear the idea of him going home alone. Worse was the idea of him going home with someone else

Harry hesitated for a moment as he glanced back down the hallway to the main part of the house. “It’s late.”

“You’re right, it’s late,” Louis murmured. “At least let me call Fred to have him come pick you up.”

Harry leaned against the opposite wall, leaving less than two feet between them. “Alright.”

Louis dug his phone out of the pocket of his slacks to dial. “Fred?”

“Yes, sir?” Fred’s tinny voice replied.

“Harry would like to go home now, please.”

“Very well. I’ll be five minutes.”

“Thank you.” Louis ended the call and dropped his phone back into his pocket while silence reigned in the small space. “He said five minutes.”

Harry nodded and pushed himself off the wall to stand up straight. “This was a lovely evening, Louis.”

“Yes it was. Thanks, again, for your company.” Louis mirrored his actions, closing the distance between them even more. Tension shimmered in the air and Louis could feel Harry’s breath as the wool of his coat brushed against Louis’ thighs. He could practically taste the wine left behind on Harry’s lips, so ready to forget his rule about physical contact with Harry and give in to the temptation.

Just as he was sure he was done for, Harry shifted his weight and Louis caught his reflection in the inky black window of the front door.

His sixty-year-old reflection.

The face staring back at him ripped him out from under the influence of the spell Harry had cast, and Louis drew in a sharp breath, letting his body fall back until he was leaning against the wall again.

Harry’s eyes widened for a brief moment before his expression fell and he turned to dig in his pockets for his gloves. While his face was turned away from Louis, he cleared his throat.

“So,” Harry started, his tone much more stiff than it had been only moments before. “Right. Only one event left, then? New Years?”

Louis’ heart sunk. Of course. It was almost Christmas, and they would both be going to visit their families. He wasn’t going to see Harry for another week when they went to the Fidelity gala. The whole point of his whole Seeking Arrangement experiment.

“Right. I’ll, um, text you the details. And it’s white tie, so just let me know if you need me to pick anything up for you.”

An unsettling awkwardness had settled between them after their near kiss, and Louis hated the bitter taste it left in its wake.

“I have it, don’t worry,” Harry said, as Fred pulled up to the curb. He shrugged and smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It comes with the territory.”

Louis swallowed around the lump in his throat and the corners of his eyes burned at the thought of Harry going out with anyone else.

“Goodnight, Harry,” he said as he held the door for him.

Harry hesitated in the doorway while the cold air seeped into the house, but Louis couldn’t care less, couldn’t think of anything else as Harry leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, just above the line of his stubble.

His heart fluttered and his eyes opened just in time to see the sadness in Harry’s eyes.

“Bye, Louis,” he whispered.

And then he was gone.

 

**One Week Later**

The phone rang while Louis was elbow deep in buttercream frosting decorating cookies with his younger siblings.

“Lotts, can you hand me my phone?” he asked as he dunked his hands in the warm soapy water in the kitchen sink.

His sister grabbed the phone off the kitchen island of his mother’s home. “Who’s Harry?”

Louis tripped over the kitchen rug in his haste to grab the phone out of her hand before swiping across the screen to answer it.

“Hey, Harry, hang on a second,” he rushed out before tapping the mute button and turning to climb the stairs to his bedroom.

It was the twenty-third. The day before his second birthday in his aged body. The day before Christmas Eve. There was always the possibility Harry was calling about that, as lovely a person as he was.

Somehow, given how they left each other the week before, Louis didn’t think that’s what he was calling about. His thumb paused over the mute button, and he took a deep breath. He was going to have to face this sooner or later.

“Sorry about that, Harry. How are you?” he asked, taking an avoidance approach.

“Hi Louis,” Harry replied. His voice wavered on just those few syllables, and Louis caught a slight sniffle. Shit.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, softly.

“Louis… I’m not quite sure how to say this…”

Louis managed to keep his voice calm despite his heart breaking into a million little pieces. “Go on, it’s alright.”

“These past couple weeks with you have been the best. The most fun I’ve ever had in an arrangement. To be honest, that’s what made this so difficult.” Harry took a shaky breath. “The thing is, Louis, I’ve been really confused.”

“Confused?” Louis lowered himself down onto the edge of the mattress and wrapped his hands over the bunched up coverlet.

“I don’t really know what the right word is. You just- You’re so great, and you seem really touchy about this but I meant it when I told you you have a young soul. I’m starting to have- I don’t even understand-” Harry’s breathing started growing more and more erratic.

“Harry, shh. It’s alright. Take a deep breath for me,” Louis tried to soothe him through the phone, taking loud enough breaths for Harry to synch with his own breathing. If he was there with him in person, he would wrap Harry up in his arms and rub his back until he calmed down, rules and boundaries be damned. He made the rules, surely that meant he could break them?

Louis listened to Harry breathe for another few moments, letting him get his bearings back.

“Louis. I’m having trouble, because when we’re together there’s something really special and it feels like we click. So much so that I forget…” Harry sighed.

“Forget?” Louis prompted.

“I let myself forget that we’re in very different places in our lives.”

Louis let his eyes drift closed and his head loll forward on his neck. “What do you mean, honey?”

“I don’t know,” Harry cried out, suddenly forceful. “I’ve always… Eventually, I want to get out of this life. Find someone I care about and settle down. That’s always been my goal. I want a family, and a home, and a career. You don’t talk about it much, but I can only guess that you’re past the age where you would want that.”

Pinpricks danced along Louis’ skin as he tried to keep himself together. Everything that Harry described, that was all he had ever wanted. A career? Family? That was what had been taken away from him when he had been cursed this way. Harry. A life with Harry had been taken away from him against his will when he didn’t even know he was an option.

There was no way he could tell Harry the truth, and he would rather eviscerate himself than cause Harry any more pain. So he said the only thing he could possible say.

“You’re right,” he choked out.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the sound of Harry’s much more pronounced sniffle through the speaker of his phone.

“I’m sorry, Louis. I wish there was a way…”

Louis couldn’t bear to let him finish the sentence.

“I understand, Harry. I do. I promise.”

Panic gripped Louis’ throat and his mind was scrambling trying to come up with something to get Harry to come with him to the Fidelity gala. He might not ever be able to tell him exactly what was wrong, but he also couldn’t live without seeing him one last time.

“Look, Harry. I completely understand if you want to cut off our arrangement. I do. But, I would really love if you would come to the New Year’s Eve gala with me.” A tear managed to escape the corner of Louis’ right eye and he reached up to wipe it away. “It’s entirely up to you. But I care about you too much to say goodbye like this.”

The silence stretched on, and Louis began to grow antsy waiting for Harry’s answer. He had to actively bite his lip to keep from saying anything.

“Okay,” Harry replied, his voice small.

“Okay,” Louis breathed out, relieved. When Harry didn’t say anything, Louis wasn’t sure what else to say. Harry was right. Louis—the way he looked to the world—wasn’t supposed to be at the point in his life that he wanted to marry and settle down with a twenty-five year old Harry.

And even though his instincts were screaming at him to say something, anything, to keep Harry around past their arrangement, past New Year’s Eve, he knew he could never. Marrying someone almost forty years his senior was no life for Harry to lead. He deserved someone who he could be with on his own terms, who he could grow old with.

Also, a very loud voice in Louis’ head kept reminding him that he didn’t want this. He wanted Harry, yes, more than anything. But his twenty-seven year old self wanted Harry. His twenty-seven year old self craved Harry and the fantasy life he described.

“I’m sorry I can’t be what you need.”

Harry sighed one last time. “Merry Christmas, Lou.”

When the line went dead in his ear, Louis pulled his phone away from ear and stared at it where he held it between his knees for a few minutes, not knowing what else to do.

“Merry Christmas, Harry,” he said out loud to his empty bedroom.

He had a week to decide what he was going to do at the Fidelity gala. There was no rule book for this, no normal breakup and get back together procedure for, “Sorry I’m cursed to be trapped in this body forever.” Louis wasn’t even sure that it was a curse, because as far as he knew, curses didn’t exist. But if they didn’t exist, then how did end up aging forty years overnight?

Every answer led to more questions, and he was pretty sure the only path available to him was to sit back and let the love of his life pass through his life like sand through his fingers.

 

**New Year’s Eve**

The week between his phone call with Harry and when Louis stepped into the shower to get ready for the gala was excruciating. When he was down in Virginia he did his best to not think about everything back in Boston and just enjoy the holidays as he could with his family. But if he was being honest with himself, his mind was on Harry.

He knew this was going to happen. A few weeks ago, when he first contacted Harry, a little voice in the back of his head told him this was unavoidable, but he didn’t listen.

Louis had fallen in love with Harry, that much was certain. He admired him distantly in a very vague sort of way for years, but now that he was spending real time with him, getting to know him? Louis was sunk.

It was clear from their conversation that Harry’s feelings were muddled and confused. He knew something wasn’t quite right about the situation, and Louis couldn’t blame him for that. The situation was terrible on so many levels that Harry didn’t even understand.

So, no. Louis didn’t expect Harry to reciprocate his feelings, he hadn’t even set out with that goal when he contacted him. He was only hoping for a little time. That was all he could ask for at this point.

Time, because he didn’t know how much he had left. Time to spend with someone his own age— _real_ age. Time to enjoy being in a relationship with someone he truly, genuinely liked and could see his younger self having a future with one day because he had never experienced that in real life.

His time was almost up. By the end of the evening Harry would be gone, and Louis would have to start all over again knowing that the person he was supposed to be with was out there, living his life without him.

Louis sighed as he stepped out onto the heated tile floor of his master bathroom and reached for his towel on the rack. His body was just an amorphous shape in the steam-covered mirror, and he had to laugh at the irony of it.

That was how his body felt to him—a weird facsimile of his former self that was blurry around the edges and just barely recognizable. His second life was filled with material comforts, but to what end? If there was a way for him to get the intervening years back, he longed for it.

There was so much about aging—both good and bad—that he had missed. In the beginning he had been shocked and confused, but he had soldiered on trying to adapt and survive using his instincts. He could make the argument that he had done that. He had survived.

Now he wanted to live.

Louis looked down at the puddle of water on the floor by his feet and realized he had never wrapped his towel around his waist. He wiped the terry cloth over himself a few times before covering himself up and crossing back over into his bedroom and picking up his phone to dial Niall.

“Hello?”

“Niall, hey.”

“Louis?” he asked, sounding as clear as a bell, even though Louis was sure he had been drinking for hours already.

“I want to tell Harry.” There was silence on the other end of the line for a few moments, but by now the blood was singing in Louis’ veins. Adrenaline was pumping and he had no time to wait for Niall’s champagne soaked brain to process what he was saying. “I want to tell Harry, and I want to tell him tonight. What convinced you that I was me?”

“I had known you for years by then, and you were standing in your own apartment?” Niall said carefully. Louis appreciated his effort to pretend he was sober, but his hopes deflated a little bit. Harry had never known his former self, and Louis didn’t know what the rules were to his communication issues regarding his condition. He only pushed the limits every once in awhile and hadn’t made a concerted effort to since the beginning when trying to explain it to his mom.

“I’m not sure how to tell him,” he admitted softly into the quiet stillness of his bedroom while a party raged on the other end of the line.

“Go with your gut,” Niall said, his voice almost blowing out Louis’ eardrum with its force.

Louis chuckled quietly. “Thanks, Ni.”

“Anytime, Lou! Go get ‘em!” His voice was drowned out by the music in the background.

Louis hung up the call and stared at his phone in his hand before opening up his messages with Harry. They had texted a handful of times to say “Merry Christmas” and finalize plans for that night, so Harry hadn’t completely frozen him out, but it was nothing like the flow of messages between them before Harry’s confession that he would like to end their arrangement.

 **Louis** : Still good to meet here at 8:30?

 **Harry** : Sure, see you then.

Louis breathed a sigh of relief. He still had no idea how he was going to convince Harry that he wasn’t the almost seventy-year-old man he presented himself as on the outside, but at least he was still agreeing to attend the party.

Louis kept repeating that to himself like a mantra over and over as he began to get dressed. There was still hope.

 

An hour later, Louis held the door of the black car open for Harry in front of the Park Plaza castle. The ride across town to the venue had been… delicate. Harry was perfectly friendly to Louis, but there was a stiff and guarded sort of politeness he had never seen before from him. He didn’t sit close to Louis in the car, didn’t tangle their hands together.

He was keeping his distance. And the damndest thing was, Louis couldn’t even be upset with him for it, because he knew how weird the whole thing was.

They began to climb the front steps of the entrance and Louis held his elbow out for Harry to take. He had already hooked his hand almost completing in Louis’ and drawn him close before he hesitated. Louis didn’t mention it, didn’t say anything as he relaxed his elbow to allow Harry to keep his arm in his, but maintain a more polite distance between their bodies.

When they reached the line at the check-in table, Louis turned his head to address him, unable to let so much go unspoken between them and determined they would both enjoy the evening. “Listen, Harry. I’m sorry this if this is difficult for you at all or is making you uncomfortable. The second you want to leave, you tell me. Please,” he begged. His guilt would eat away at him if he thought he was keeping Harry there against his will.

Harry’s eyes were shiny and his smile was weak when he responded. “It’s alright, Lou. I promise. Let’s just enjoy the evening.”

Louis studied his gaze for another moment looking for any kind of resentment. He didn’t find any, instead all he found was a hint of sadness.

“Okay.”

Harry’s body relaxed a fraction more into his where their arms were conjoined, and all Louis felt was relief.

They slowly made their way to the front of the line so they could receive their name tags and VIP bracelets meant to indicate that they were allowed open bar privileges all night and entry into the smaller VIP lounge area. It was a nice perk, but Louis wanted to take it easy tonight. Maybe one drink to take the nervous edge off, but he wanted to remain as alert as possible.

All he needed now was an opportunity.

They walked around for a little while exploring the cavernous space. Based on what he had heard of the gala the year before, they were expecting up to twelve hundred people to attend tonight. There was plenty of food and bar service to cater to that many people which meant there were options.

The more they explored the food stations, the more Harry continued to relax and enjoy himself. There was a live band and Louis loved to watch Harry’s hips shift back and forth in place as he bent down to examine sculpted chocolate desserts with dainty gold leaf details.

“Would you like to dance?” he asked.

Harry stood up abruptly. “You dance?”

Louis felt himself finally crack his first genuine smile of the night. “I can’t believe we’ve been to almost a dozen events in the last month and not one of them included dancing.”

“Well, they might have, but you were too busy getting me into trouble,” Harry teased back easily with the rhythm and cadence of their former party games.

Louis held up his hands in mock defense. “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

Harry popped a miniature mousse cup in his mouth before taking Louis’ hand and leading him out to the very loosely populated dance floor.

Something must have happened to Harry on their way out to the middle. Louis wasn’t sure if he saw a sideways glance or a more blatant look of disgust, or even had a moment to consider the feeling of Louis’ thinner more wrinkled hand in his strong grip, but by the time Louis was placing a hand on Harry’s hip in order to lead, Harry had stiffened up again.

Louis did his best to ignore the nagging feeling in his gut for a moment, but eventually it became too much to bear.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, leaning closer.

Harry visibly swallowed and leaned his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment. Louis kept a tight grip on his hip to keep him from getting dizzy.

“I’m alright, let’s just dance,” he said as his voice wavered.

Panic gripped at Louis’ throat. He didn’t want Harry to leave yet.

“Close your eyes,” he blurt out.

“Hmm?” Harry bit his bottom lip drawing it into his mouth.

“Just, trust me, please. Close your eyes?”

A giggle burst up from Harry’s throat. “I can’t do that, I’ll trip.”

Just as he said that the band wound down and launched into a slightly slower song. Distantly, Louis thought it sounded familiar, but couldn’t place it.

“This is the Snow Patrol song from the end of The Office with Jim and Pam,” Harry mumbled as he reached his free hand up to comb his hair back from his face.

“You’re right, it is. Come on, now. Close your eyes.”

Harry’s eyes sparkled with mirth as he gave in and closed his eyes. Louis repositioned their hands and drew Harry in close. They were swaying more than anything to the simple music in the background. Louis, too, closed his eyes and leaned into Harry’s frame, letting Harry rest his cheek against the crown of his head. He let himself get lost in the music as he flattened his anchoring hand against Harry’s back and rubbed up and down in time with the music, silently willing Harry to continue to relax.

He let himself relish holding Harry if even for that moment in time. This was what it could be like. This was what he could have if he ever was able to really be with Harry. It was enough to have this. It had to be.

The end of the song burst their bubble, but instead of springing back, Harry stepped back languidly, sadness tugging at the edges of his expression.

Louis cleared his throat and stepped back as well creating more distance. He thumbed over his shoulder back off the dance floor towards the food.

“Would you like to get something to eat?” he shouted. Harry nodded, so Louis turned to lead the way.

When they reached the food there were simply too many options, but Harry wasn’t anywhere near as enthusiastic about seeing everything as he had been before.

Louis glanced down at his watch. 10:45pm.

He needed to be polite and find Adam and the rest of the team that invited him, but once midnight hit, they should leave. Both he and Harry were on wildly vacillating roller coasters of emotion, and it wasn’t fair of him to drag it out any longer than necessary.

They gathered their plates and went to find their table. As they drew near, Louis rolled his eyes.

Adam was at their table in the VIP area, but so was Chad. And his lovely parents.

“Oh, great,” Louis said in a sotto voice leaning closer to Harry. “I’m so sorry about this.”

“Sorry about what?”

“Our dinner companions,” he replied ruefully. Really, this was a hell of a way to end a year of ups and downs.

“Hello,” he said to the table at large.

“George!” Adam cried, standing up to greet him and shake his hand. “So good to see you.”

He had thankfully already warned Harry about the Fidelity employees using his “given” name. “You, too, Adam. This is Harry,” Louis said addressing Adam, letting him go around the table and make the rest of the introductions.

Louis held the chair out for Harry and caressed his shoulder in a naturally affectionate gesture. Chad and his mother both looked like they had bitten into a lemon.

Harry caught their reaction as well and turned back to Louis with an amused glance and a quirked eyebrow as if to say: “Are they serious?”

Chad’s parents were just the frigid tight-asses that Louis remembered, so he and Harry pretty much stuck to themselves and Adam for conversation as they ate their offerings from the catering stations.

Every once in awhile when Louis looked up he caught Chad’s mother Cathy watching him, but he didn’t think anything of it until Harry excused himself to go to the bathroom and Adam got caught up in conversation with someone else at their table.

Louis was left to his own devices and drew his phone out of his pocket to check his messages. After a few moments he looked up and locked eyes with Cathy.

She gestured for him to lean over Harry’s empty seat between them, and Louis obliged out of politeness.

When he got close enough she reached her hand over and dug her sharp nails into the back of the hand he was using to brace his weight.

“I know who you really are,” Cathy said quietly. Louis was frozen in place, unsure of what to say or do. “How does it feel to watch my son get everything you ever dreamed of? Everything that _he_ rightly deserves?”

Suddenly the puzzle pieces began crashing together in his head all at once.

_You will pay for this ridiculous oversight, and you will pay dearly._

That’s what she had said to him that fateful day two years ago. Two years he had lived like this because this woman who had everything she could ever ask for thought her imbecile of a son was better than Louis.

“You did this to me?” he growled under his breath. “You _ruined_ my life.”

“I did what I had to do,” she whispered.

Louis’ blood pressure was rising and he was very quickly growing belligerent. “Your son absolutely did not deserve that job more than I did, he has absolutely no instinct for it, yet you’ve bought and bartered his way into this world?”

Her eyes grew steely. “He belongs in this world. You don’t.”

“And yet,” Louis bit out, “I’ve managed to make it right back to this very point with no help from an actual witch of a mother. What does that say about me and my abilities? You can attack me with anything else you have. I’m just going to keep bouncing back.”

She looked ready to strike him. In hindsight, provoking a woman who could only be some kind of witch… again... wasn’t the smartest thing he could have done, but he had a tendency to speak first, think later.

Unfortunately for her, he was more determined than ever to reverse whatever she had done.

“How do I fix this?” he asked.

She raised an eyebrow and smirked. “You’ll never know. Does your little boytoy know the truth?” Faking surprise, she went on with a sickly sweet tone before Louis could say anything. “Oops, I guess he probably doesn’t, huh?”

“Does your son know he has done absolutely nothing of worth by himself, it’s all been from his mommy cleaning up behind him?” Louis replied.

Apparently he was going to continue provoking the scary lady.

Finally, Harry returned from the bathroom and they both leaned back as though nothing had happened to let Harry sit down in the seat between them.

“Lou?” Harry asked after a moment of tense silence. “Is everything alright?”

“No,” Louis replied. “But it will be. Come with me?” he asked while silently daring Cathy to say anything.

He didn’t have a plan for how he would convey his message to Harry, but he did know he needed to do it far away from the table and that woman.

Grabbing Harry’s hand he led him back towards the dance floor hoping to find privacy at the edge of the crowd.

“Louis, what is going on?” Harry asked, tugging his hand back bringing them to a halt at the edge of the floor.

Louis sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Harry. I have a lot of things to say to you, and I just need to sort my thoughts out for a second.”

“You’re scaring me, Lou.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said in a rush not realizing what he had let slip until he saw the pain knife through Harry’s eyes. Louis smoothed his hand down the outside of Harry’s arm. “I’m messing this all up, I’m so sorry.”

Harry looked even warier, but wasn’t going anywhere yet. Little did he know, it was only going to get crazier.

“I’m going to say a few things, and if it looks like my lips are moving and you don’t hear anything just pull your ear lobe.”

Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion. “Okay?”

“Two years ago something in my life changed,” Louis started carefully. Harry nodded, so he took that as a sign to continue. “I was no longer the same man I had become.”

So far everything had worked so he went for broke. “I was cursed to age about forty years.”

Harry stared at him, waiting. Scepticism evident, he slowly lifted his hand up to tug on his ear lobe. The direct approach wasn’t going to work, then.

“I was twenty-six once,” he said. It wasn’t a lie, or revealing, technically.

“Well, yeah, Lou. I mean, I guessed. You can’t just skip a year,” Harry said. Louis almost cried at the irony. “What year was it? I’m terrible at that sort of math.”

“More recently than you might think,” he said, latching on to this idea. If he can get to the point where he can imply he was twenty-six two years ago, Harry might begin to understand.

“Hah, very funny Louis,” Harry replied.

“Harry, I’m serious. Try and guess the year!” he begged.

“I don’t know, seventy-nine?”

“More recent than that,” Louis said, getting more keyed up now that they were onto something.

Harry tensed up. “I’m not playing games, Lou. It was fun for awhile, but I’m still really confused about everything-”

Feedback from the mic interrupted what Harry was about to say.

“Three minutes to midnight, folks!” the emcee said over the mic. “Grab your poppers and your kissing partner now while you’ve got the chance,” he added with a leer.

“Harry it’s not a game, I swear.”

Harry shook his head sadly. “I don’t think this was a good idea, I think maybe I should go.”

Louis began to panic, but his desire to help Harry figure out who he really was would never win out over his desire to keep Harry from feeling trapped or threatened.

“Of course,” he said sadly, the hope dying in his chest.

There was a mad rush of people trying to make it towards the dance floor where they were lowering the screen to show the ball drop in New York.

“Two minutes!” the emcee announced.

“Let me call Fred,” Louis said as he reached for his phone, before realizing he had left it at the table. In the rising din he motioned for Harry to follow him.

They reached the table that was now empty, and Louis picked up his phone to fire off a text to his driver. When he was done he placed it in his inner jacket pocket. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight. There are just things I want to say and I can’t.”

Tears burned at the corners of his eyes, but he couldn’t let them fall and make Harry feel worse.

Harry smiled at him sadly. “I care about you a lot, Lou. That’s why I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered.

“One minute to midnight!” the emcee called.

Louis grabbed Harry’s hand and squeezed. “If you ever need anything for any reason, please call me. Here, let me walk you out.”

They broke through the crowd and headed towards the back of the venue where the main entrance was.

When they made it out to the front steps and Fred’s car appeared from around the corner, Louis had already made up his mind. He was going to give Harry some space and let him take the car home while he went back inside to confront Cathy Terpine.

“You go ahead,” he said, holding the door open. “I’ll wait and have Fred come back for me.”

“Are you sure?” Harry whispered into the wind. Louis surged up to place a kiss to his cheek.

“Go.”

Harry hesitated, poised to climb into the backseat as he studied Louis for a moment. A cheer rang up behind them and they could just barely hear the strains of Auld Lang Syne floating out through the open doorway.

“Happy New Year, Louis,” Harry said before he leaned over the edge of the car door to place a light as a feather kiss to Louis’ mouth.

Louis inhaled sharply as Harry pulled away. Harry had never kissed him before. On the cheek plenty of times, but never straight on the mouth. He hadn’t even been given the chance to memorize what he tasted like.

His lips were tingling as the door began to give way under his fingers. Come to think of it, his fingers were tingling as well.

That was the last thought Louis registered before the edges of his vision went black.

 

When Louis woke up again it was to total darkness. He was still wearing his crisp white dress shirt—that was now almost completely wilted—and his trousers, but his jacket, cufflinks, and shoes were all gone.

He was definitely in bed, and it felt familiar enough that he assumed it was his own. Sure enough, when he reached over to the side table the way he did every morning his hand fell on his phone. It was placed farther away than usual, but he could still find it.

With less stiffness than usual, Louis threw the blankets back and placed his feet on the floor. He rounded the end of the bed and pulled the curtains back and tied them up. It was a beautiful New Year’s Day in Boston, he should check what the temperature was like and see if it was warm enough to take a walk.

The last thing he remembered from last night was saying goodbye to Harry in the middle of Columbus Ave outside of the gala.

Harry gave him a brief kiss and then… nothing. He didn’t even remember watching Fred drive away with Harry. That was odd. He had only had one drink all evening as far as he remembered, and it was certainly not enough to make him blackout like this.

Harry.

Louis definitely needed to call him today.

Or, well, maybe he should give Harry some space. Last night’s goodbye had felt pretty final, and while there still was nothing he could offer Harry in terms of a future, he would do best to stay away even though all of his instincts were screaming against it.

Louis looked down at his clothes. They were rumpled in weird spots and sitting oddly on his frame. He had nothing to do today except lounge around the house, so he might as well get comfortable.

He crossed to his walk-in closet and began unbuttoning the front placket of his shirt.

There was a soft knock at the door that halted Louis’ movements. “Louis? Are you awake?”

That was Harry’s voice.

“I’m in here!” Louis called as he let go of his shirt and scrambled to get back to his bedroom. Harry had stayed over. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize you were in the guest room.”

When he emerged, his eyes met Harry’s. Louis wasn’t sure what he expected in terms of a reaction to his now half shirtless bedraggled appearance, but he definitely didn’t expect both Harry’s expression and grip to go slack as he dropped the mugs of tea and let out a blood curdling scream.

Louis jumped back at the startling noise before leaping forward to try and rescue the tea. “Harry, oh my God, are you alright?”

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” Harry yelled as he stumbled backwards.

“What do you mean?” Louis asked as he grabbed a discarded towel from the closet door and began mopping at the boiling liquid before it sank into the hardwood. “It’s me.”

“This is Louis’ house right?” Harry put his hands to his temples in disbelief. “Oh my God I went to the wrong house.”

“No, Harry, you’re in the right house. You’ve been here before?” Louis pointed out confused by his odd behavior.

Harry suddenly, gasped and covered his mouth with his hand as his eyes widened. “Oh, God. You’re his boyfriend aren’t you.”

That made Louis stand up quickly, forgotten excess tea cooling on the towel and dripping back onto the floor. “What?”

“I knew he was hiding something. How could I have been so stupid? He’s got a young, hot boyfriend, and I was just getting in the way.” Harry was speaking quicker than Louis had ever heard before and his movements were jerky and frantic as he turned to leave.

“No, Harry, wait!” But Harry was already gone, his feet pounding down the stairs. “Harry!”

Louis’ unbuttoned dress shirt was billowing away from his body as he flew down after him desperately trying not to trip over his feet.

“I’ll just go, let me get out of your hair,” Harry rushed out with something resembling a sniffle. “Happy New Year!” he called out, sweet to the last. None of that explained why he was running away, though.

“Harry, what are you doing?” Louis chased him down the hall until the front door opened and a wall of Arctic chill blustered inside, bringing them both up short, giving Louis the split second he needed to shut the heavy wooden door and lean against it to prevent Harry from trying to escape again.

“Stop!” Louis cried out, holding his hand up as he huffed and puffed in an attempt to keep Harry in one place. “First of all, you’re not leaving without a coat.”

Harry just continued to stare at him unblinking with his eyes as wide as dinner plates.

“Second of all, what the hell are you on about?” Louis asked, trying to get his breath back. Harry’s gangly legs were surprisingly quick. It must be from their insane length.

When Harry still didn’t say anything, Louis continued, not sure what else to do. “I’m flattered that you think I can keep up with two guys, baby, but if anything you’re my young hot boyfriend. You have been for the past month. Granted, I was paying you for companionship, but still,” Louis shrugged.

Tears were threatening to spill over the corners of Harry’s eyes as they flicked down to take in Louis’ outfit. Louis fiddled with his open sleeves, uncomfortable with the scrutiny.

“Who are you?” Harry rasped out eventually.

“It’s me, Louis.”

Harry rolled his lips in, clamping his mouth together tightly as one tear spilled over and he shook his head violently. “No you’re not,” he whispered.

Louis was still confused by Harry’s reaction, he was still wearing his clothes from the night before, it wasn’t as though he looked any different.

Louis felt the blood drain from his face. There _was_ a possibility that he looked different, but for the last two years it only ever happened in his dreams.

“Oh my God,” he whispered, pushing past Harry to get to the closest mirror he could find. There was one in the bathroom next to his kitchen.

His heart was pounding as he ran through his house before practically ripping the bathroom door off its hinges.

There in the mirror staring back at him was his younger self. His _real_ self. He never thought he was going to see this face ever again.

Louis’ tears began to fall immediately.

“Louis?” a tentative voice asked from the doorway. Harry gasped again when Louis’ head whipped towards the sound of it, a natural reaction to his own name.

With a shaking hand, Harry reached the tip of his finger up to the corner of Louis’ eye to wipe away one of his tears.

“You’re…” Harry trailed off.

“It’s me,” Louis swallowed the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

Harry’s eyes flicked around his face, taking in the changes. “How?”

Louis shrugged. “It’s kind of a long story.”

The answer was an out and they both knew it. Louis was leaving the door wide open for Harry to wash his hands of the whole situation and escape.

“I don’t have any plans today,” Harry replied.

 

Five tense minutes later, they hadn’t said much, but Louis was parked on one of the barstools at the end of his kitchen island while Harry carefully concentrated on measuring out the ingredients for pancakes.

Louis cleared his throat. “Where would you like me to start?”

“How about the beginning,” Harry suggested softly.

“Well, I figured out part of it last night at the gala,” Louis said carefully, remembering their sad goodbye at the end of the night. “Two years ago I was working at Fidelity as an account manager. I had just been promoted effective the first of the year, when Chad’s mother Cathy cursed me to age forty years overnight.”

The only sound Harry made was the clink of eggshell dropping down and hitting the stainless steel sink as he discarded it.

“So,” Louis continued. “The next day I woke up in my late sixties, got fired from my job, and had to figure out how to make a life. My friend Niall and my mom helped me get on my feet, I invested a bunch of money I had coming to me later in life, and I got lucky.”

Harry stirred without saying anything for a moment. “Where do I come in, then?”

That was the part Louis was afraid of explaining. “I was physically older, but mentally the same age. I was lonely and looking for company that I could relate to, and I recognized you.”

Harry clicked the gas burners on under the griddle pan. “You recognized me?”

“From shows around town… And undergrad.”

Harry finally looked up at him to study his face again before they made eye contact and a blush formed high on his cheeks. “We had a class together?”

Louis nodded. “Yeah, English 102.”

Harry snorted. “That class was so pointless.” He let the first dollop of batter hit the pan with a sizzle. “I don’t remember you.”

“That’s alright, I sat at the back and kept my head down, figuratively. It was a big class and I just wanted to get out of there.”

“So you hired me,” he said. “Did you even need me?”

The question was valid but it still stung a little bit. “Have you ever tried going to one of those events single?” Louis asked. “They’re a total bore. The only thing that made them bearable was you.”

Harry said nothing. He watched the pancake batter pour out the side of the bowl, and Louis couldn’t help but admire how he had made himself at home in Louis’ kitchen.

Louis wouldn’t mind if it became his kitchen, too, but there was a long way to go before they got there. If they ever did.

The conversation remained halted while Harry concentrated on cooking the pancakes. Finally, Louis got up and got the plates down, and dug the syrup out of the back of his pantry to set the table.

Harry placed a large stack in front of Louis’ seat at the island before placing his own plate at the other end of the island across from him. Louis was disappointed at the distance, but didn’t say anything, wanting to tread carefully.

He drenched his pancakes in syrup and began to eat. They were fluffy and angelic because of course they were. Harry really was going to kill him one day.

“How did your mom handle it?” Harry asked eventually once both of their plates were almost entirely clean.

“As well as can be expected. She and my sisters were a huge help in getting me on my feet.”

Harry hesitated before his next question, fiddling with his napkin. “And did you really make all that money in such a short period of time?”

Louis took a swig of tea. “Yeah, I got lucky with Adam at my old job.”

“Do you care about me?” Harry butt in without letting him finish.

“More than anything,” Louis whispered across the island.

Harry stood up and came around until he was standing up close to Louis who had rotated the chair so he was sitting with the countertop digging into his side. If Harry took a step forward he would be standing between Louis’ legs.

“Can I try something?” Harry asked.

Louis nodded, his lungs burning because he didn’t want to breathe in case he scared Harry away.

Slowly, Harry stepped between Louis’ splayed knees, nestling his hips between Louis thighs. They maintained eye contact as Harry reached up and cupped his jaw, barely brushing the backs of his knuckles along Louis’ cheekbone before flattening his palm against his jaw.

With much more intent than the night before, Harry leaned in and pressed his lips to Louis’.

The kiss was soft and cautious, but it was daring, too. Daring Louis to be everything that Harry wanted, and Louis could taste it. He could taste the syrup and butter from their breakfast along the ridge of Harry’s lips.

Louis darted his tongue out, searching for the flavor, pressing for entry. When Harry let his bottom lip relax and let Louis in, he pressed in closer to Louis’ body. Louis had given him a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants to wear and had changed clothes himself, so the only noise was the gentle brush of soft cotton and their lips slipping together.

Eventually, something dinged on one of their phones and Harry pulled back, pressing a few brief pecks to his lips before stepping away.

“Wow,” Louis said, his brain filled with white noise.

A smirk spread across Harry’s face. “Yeah.”

Harry turned to clear their dishes and Louis followed the line of his legs in his sweatpants—in _Louis’_ sweatpants.

“Look, Harry,” Louis started. “When I was… paying you, I didn’t want to take advantage of you, mostly because I would never be able to live with myself. But, if you ended the arrangement last night, technically-”

“Louis if you don’t shut up and kiss me again right now, I’m leaving,” Harry said flatly.

Louis vaulted off the barstool, throwing his arms around Harry’s neck to draw him in close. “Thank God,” he breathed out before leaning in to taste him again. He kept propelling their bodies forward until Harry’s back was against the wall and they could press their chests together.

Louis did everything he had been dreaming about for over a month, years if he was being honest. He plunged his hand into Harry’s curls and nipped at his jaw and sucked a mark just underneath it. They must have stayed in that position for a good ten minutes as Louis drank his fill.

Eventually, though, he couldn’t ignore how hot and bothered they had both become. Harry pulled his head back, softly banging it against the wall behind him. “I need you,” he breathed out.

“Not here, I haven’t got anything.”

“ _Now_ ,” Harry pleaded. “You teased me for weeks.”

Louis nuzzled the soft skin of Harry’s neck. “Yeah, you’re right. You deserve a reward,” he mumbled, darting his tongue out to lathe over the mark he had made earlier.

Stepping back, he admired the flush of Harry’s cheeks and lips and his wide doe eyes as Louis gripped the front hem of Harry’s shirt and pulled it up over his head before laying it flat on the floor.

“Lie down,” Louis told him, gesturing to the soft black cotton on his kitchen floor. Harry started to drop, but Louis stopped him. “Don’t hurt your knees,” he ordered.

Harry redirected, landing on his hip instead and squirming until he was lined up with the shirt.

Louis could see Harry’s erection straining against the front of the slightly too tight sweatpants, so he reached up and pushed Harry’s chest until he was laying all the way back. He braced his weight on one hand as he leaned down to kiss him lightly before trailing his kisses down Harry’s chest, stopping to lick and tease each nipple he found. To his surprise, there were four of them, so he spent more time than he intended teasing the sensitive skin.

He trailed his kisses down farther, tracing his tongue along the muscles of Harry’s abdomen until his tongue hit the coarser hair low down just peeking out about the cotton waistband.

Harry whimpered and shifted his hips. “Please, Lou. Been waiting for this,” Harry choked out.

The idea of Harry actually, seriously, contemplating being with him even when he was his older self sent a satisfied hum through Louis’ veins.

Louis sat back on his haunches and hooked a finger over the waistband of the sweatpants before tugging gradually until the base of Harry’s cock became visible. Unable to resist, Louis leaned down and nuzzled him there as well while he pulled the sweatpants the rest of the way down until they were pooled by his knees, trapping his legs together.

Louis pressed his forehead into Harry’s hip. “You’re so gorgeous,” he murmured as he reached a hand up to wrap it around Harry’s length. Harry cried out at the first full contact on his cock, and Louis quickly grew addicted to drawing the sound out of him.

Wanting to up the ante and see how far he could push Harry now that he was finally given his chance, Louis leaned over to lick across Harry’s slit before covering the head fully with his lips. The reaction he elicited was like pure shots of adrenaline to Louis’ system. Harry was whiny and Harry was loud, and Louis had never heard anything more beautiful in his life.

Taking a deep breath, Louis pressed forward and took as much of Harry down his throat as he could, making sure his hand worked in conjunction to completely overwhelm him with sensation. The little cries he had started to hear grew in volume and desperation as Louis continued to work him over.

Finally Louis felt Harry’s hand dig in his hair and give a little tug. It send a flash of heat to Louis’ own cock, and that just wouldn’t do. He needed to stave off his own orgasm for as long as possible to make sure Harry was well and truly wrung out first.

Louis drew his hand away from Harry’s cock, working him over using only his mouth. With his hand now free he reached up and grabbed Harry’s wrist, tugging his hand away, guiding Harry’s arm until it was flat against the floor next to his body. He shifted his weight and circled Harry’s cock with the other hand while his right hand clamped down on Harry’s wrist and trapped it against the harsh cold of the hardwood floor.

Almost immediately, Harry began squirming, testing the limits of his hold. “Lou—Fuck, _Louis_. Louis Louis, gonna come,” he slurred.

Louis drew back until just the head of Harry’s cock was in his mouth as he continued to jack him off with his hand until Harry was crying out hoarsely and coming in hard spurts.

His breathing ragged, Harry wrapped his free hand around Louis upper arm to drag him back up his body until Louis was straddling Harry’s thighs. He drew his own cock out of his joggers and worked himself quickly until he too was coming across Harry’s abdomen.

Louis’ muscles gave way making his torso fall forward and he only just managed to catch himself and hold himself up with one hand.

“Holy shit,” he choked.

“You can say that again,” Harry sighed from beneath him.

Louis chuckled and rolled carefully until he was laying on the floor next to Harry. “We should move to one of the many comfy beds I have.”

Harry turned his head until they were looking at each other side by side on the kitchen floor. “Maybe a shower first? Neither one of us showered this morning,” he pointed out.

“We didn’t exactly help matters,” Louis snorted. “Let’s go,” he said rolling onto his knees and letting the blood rush back down from his head. He got up smoothly and reached a hand down to help Harry up as well. “I’m not going to lie, it’s nice to be able to do that more easily than ever.”

Harry chuckled the whole way back upstairs but stopped when they reached the top landing. His eyes darted to the one open guest room door and he hooked his thumb over his shoulder towards the guest bathroom. “Should I go…?”

Louis smirked and leaned against the edge of the doorframe. “Now what good is a huge master bathroom if I can’t enjoy it with my hot young boyfriend?”

Harry relaxed into an exasperated smile and gave Louis a playful shove. “Alright old man, let’s go.”

Louis made a fake affronted noise for a moment before something occurred to him. “Ooh, wait. Will you give me a sponge bath instead?”

Harry honked out a startled laugh the same way he had so many times before when they were joking around during the holiday event season and the last little shred of doubt Louis had about their future floated away.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!!!


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